Final Fantasy: Cycle of Wrath
by Fatalis Prime
Summary: An indepth novelization of the original Final Fantasy. Learn more about the world of FFI, the Warriors of Light, their allies and their enemies. Six adventurers' story of life, death, love and hardship.
1. Chapter 1: Skirmish in the Strait

A young officer in the traditional red dress uniform and gold helmet appeared and snapped a smart salute. "General Garland, carrier pigeon from Admiral Faust; the second flotilla is in position and the pirate fleet is trapped in the Northern Strait. There's nowhere for them to go but on land and-"

Siegfried Garland waved his hand and the soldier stopped talking. "Relay to Faust that our forces are also in position, whether he dies at land or sea is irrelevant. Bikke dies today."

The two officers exchanged a salute and the captain strode away at a brisk pace. Garland walked up to the top of the hillock and drew his spyglass. Two large contingents of Royal Army forces held the port, cannons were in position and ready to fire on the pirates once they were within range.

This strategy was straight from the king himself, but Garland didn't like it. While the forces holding the port were heavily fortified, they were stationary targets and vulnerable to Bikke's swift pirate vessels. The logic was to force a surrender by demonstrating that they had nowhere to go, but Captain Black Beard Bikke was not about to surrender; while he was a coward, he would try a desperate escape before he waved the white flag.

Because pirates invariably hang, no one save for the king expected a peaceful resolution. Most of the fleet would go down fighting, as would any pirates that tried to take the port. Bikke himself would most likely try to run the Royal Navy blockade and escape to Provoka. The chances of doing so successfully were slim to none, and one of Garland's many grievances with this plan was that he wouldn't have the pleasure of killing him personally.

The general had proposed a better strategy, of course, one that was sure to eliminate the pirates- albeit with less flair and more glory going to the Army than the Navy. He had proposed that the Navy pigeon hole Bikke's fleet in the strait as per the current plan, but have the Army remain out of sight. Once the pirates went aground at the port, the Army would swarm the town in full force.

A few soldiers were sure to be lost, but less than with the king's starry-eyed plan. Although he was a knight through and through, Garland was also a politician and knew a few dead troops would look a lot better than a lot of dead troops and a few sunken ships.

Garland sighed. The king was an idiot for thinking a show of overwhelming force would win the day. This wasn't the Elven Navy they were fighting, pirates don't play by any predetermined rules. He knew how this was going to end. Although victory was certain, it wouldn't be clean. Lives and ships were going to be lost today, and Bikke would be an unconfirmed kill at sea. Also, it would all end up being Garland's fault somehow.

He made a fist angrily. It must be nice to be king, he thought. Be a sloppy tactician far from the front and blame it all on your generals when things inevitably go wrong. Garland snorted. I'm not a general, he thought, I'm just a puppet; this is the king's strategy, not mine.

* * *

"Yer orders, Cap'n?" One of the less scurvy-ridden buccaneers asked. Bikke just stood there, staring forlornly at the Cornelian Navy ships clogging the strait. His ships were safely out of range at this point, but that margin was steadily shrinking. Also, the knights had taken the port town of Prontera and fortified it with heavy cannons. 

Bikke was between a sea snake and a sahagin, but he had been through worse. It wasn't over yet, not by a long shot. While this wouldn't be a good day for him or his mates, he was determined to make it a worse day for that idiot Garland and that dried up old husk of a man Faust.

"Have the _Provoka_ an' _Narciss_ draw fire from Faust's dogs." Bikke growled. "Tell Otis that whatever'e does, don't lose any more sea to 'em." "The rest of us're gonna lay waste to Prontera. Keep the _Nirvana_ at a safe distance!"

"Aye aye, Cap'n!" The pirate yelled and ran off to relay the orders. Bikke was sending the crew of the _Provoka_ and _Narciss_ to a watery grave; but those were the only ships large enough to make Faust break a sweat. The rest of the fleet was fast and quick, perfect for taking out Garland's stationary cannonries.

* * *

Through his spyglass Garland saw the two frigates break and head for the nearest group of Navy cutters. He's clearing a path, he thought. He's not even going to try to run aground. Garland sighed, almost disappointed, and then the main sails on the rest of the fleet opened up. The pirate cutters turned and started heading for shore at a brisk pace. Single file, parallel to the coast. 

"Blast it!" Garland exclaimed out loud. Bikke was doing a shore bombardment. He motioned to the nearby lieutenant. "Get down there and tell them to fire at will!"

* * *

Bikke grinned. The winds and the current were in his favor. He couldn't be going faster if he had a hydra pulling his ship. Below decks his crew had the cannons ready to fire. Although they were a lot smaller than the heavy ones protecting Prontera, they were more than enough to waste the town. The knights would be trying to hit fast moving ships with big guns. The pirates just had to nail the big stationary guns. 

"_The Sea Troll_'s in range Cap'n!" One of the pirates shouted.

"Tell 'em to open fire!" Bikke shouted in return.

The first of the three cutters released a volley of cannon fire. Nearby docks erupted into explosions of foam and splinters, and one of the cannonries was destroyed instantly. Return fire from Prontera caused great plumes of water to erupt on all sides of the _Sea Troll_ but scored no direct hits. Bikke knew this luck wouldn't hold all day.

Farther east, towards the open sea, things were going a lot worse for the pirates. Faust's flagship, an enormous ironclad called the _Queen Jayne_ had blasted the _Provoka_ into driftwood with a single volley. The _Narciss_ had been running interference, but was now on full retreat. She was crewed by pirates, after all. Not zealots.

* * *

Garland's mailed fist slammed the spyglass down, shattering it. The first ship wasn't even hit, and the port was nearly destroyed in a single pass. Two more ships inbound. He turned to one of his subordinates. 

"Where's the nitro powder?" Garland roared. The lieutenant looked at him as if he was speaking Lufenian. That magically reactive, crystalline explosive was dwarven in origin and the Army had a very finite supply remaining. Of course, Garland saw to it that every cannon brigade kept some in stock, just in case.

"Bring it!" He bellowed. A young soldier in an archer's uniform ran up to Garland carrying a small gray canister. Garland snatched it and started loping down the hill. "Send a pigeon to Faust; tell him to corner the pirates as close to Prontera as he can!"

* * *

Bikke didn't like doing bombardments from the starboard side. They were fighting the strait's current and fighting the winds. Half speed at best, quarter speed at worst. The _Sea Troll_ was already going down, despite the fact that only a third of the cannons Prontera originally opened up with were still firing. While the _Nirvana_ had the luxury of staying at a relatively safe distance- she was equipped with navy caliber cannons- a stray cannon ball had bounced up and splintered the auxiliary mast and some poor sap's right leg. 

"Fire!" Bikke roared. The _Nirvana_'s starboard cannons opened up and more fire and smoke plumed out of what was once the port town of Prontera. A return volley sounded, but not from the port. Geyser plumes of foam erupted all about the ship. Bikke looked to port and almost had a heart attack. The _Narciss_ was in full retreat; followed closely by two Cornelian ships, cannons blazing.

"Break to Port!" Bikke screamed. "Set a course bearin' right down on the _Queen Jayne_!"

The massive ironclad was all but invulnerable to conventional weapons. Bikke wasn't planning on attacking her, but running a now broken blockade consisting of the _Queen Jayne_ would only work if he stayed in her blind spot. There was no way she could hit him if he came dead-on from the front.

* * *

Despite his heavy armor, Garland sprinted quickly through the ruined town. Cannon balls impacted the ground on all sides and Cornelian archers were trying to keep the survivors of the _Sea Troll_'s crew from making it ashore. All Garland had to do was find a working cannon and a single powder ball. The smoke from the rampant fires would make nailing the _Nirvana_ difficult. But if he used enough nitro he wouldn't even need to worry about accuracy. 

Out in the bay, the three surviving pirate vessels were clustered together, taking fire from the remnants of Prontera's garrison and two Cornelian cutters. One of the cutters was ablaze and going down, but her cannons still fired. _Abandon ship!_ Garland thought. _They're just pirates! You aren't saving the queen by dying in this travesty!_

He spotted what looked like an intact cannon. He ran up to it and shoved aside the corpse of its former operator. Looking around Garland grabbed a powder ball and proceeded to empty it. Hunkering down behind an overturned cart he began to fill the empty shell with nitro. It looked like fine diamond dust, and was almost as valuable. The knight packed every spare gram he could into the ball, then applied a fuse.

Sabers clanged and pistols rang out in the distance. The smoke that he had cursed moments before obscured him from the pirates. While all of the cannonries had been destroyed and some of the pirates had made it ashore this stand alone unit had somehow survived; while its former operator had been killed by shrapnel. Garland filled the cannon with gun powder and applied a fuse. He then lit the fuse on the ball and dropped it in the cannon. _Here goes everything,_ he thought and aimed the cannon in the general direction of the three pirate ships.

He jerked the fuse and fire erupted from the cannon, the red hot ball screamed through the air towards the sea. Garland turned and ran for high ground.

* * *

Bikke turned abruptly as a deafening explosion sounded behind him. Where one of the Cornelian cutters had been just moments ago was an impossible combination of water and light. The shockwave capsized the other ship and the explosive force tore Bikke's last remaining ships asunder. _What the hell was that?_ Bikke thought. He grabbed the wheel just as the tidal wave came down on his ship. 

The _Nirvana_ swung hard to starboard, but didn't capsize. The unplanned course adjustment brought her to bear with the _Queen Jayne_'s cannons, but the ungainly ironclad was busy dealing with unexpected water intake. Bikke spun the wheel hard, and managed to straighten his course. Whatever that blast was (black magic?), it was his one-way ticket out of this hellish strait.

Bikke reached in his pouch and removed a tiny clear orb of solid crystal. Whatever THIS was, that damned dark elf was going to pay dearly for it. Black Beard had lost all but a single ship and the vast majority of his mates. While Otis wasn't going to be a problem anymore, Bikke would have a hard time maintaining dominance in the Aldean with a single ship crewed by a dozen buccaneers. Yes indeed, that dark elf would pay.


	2. Chapter 2: The Church Healer

Prontera had been a tiny fishing village and port town until this day. The only real mark of civilization in this part of Cornelia. The elves contended that this vast stretch of land wasn't even Cornelian at all. It was largely uninhabited forest where ogres and goblins reigned supreme.

The fires had been all but quenched, but plumes of smoke rose up from the ruined homes and shattered bunkers. The knight she spoke to had said that most of the civilians were forcibly evacuated before the skirmish began, but there were plenty of dead about.

The majority of the corpses belonged to knights; torn asunder by cannon fire and the resulting shrapnel. Wounded lay strewn about in varying degrees of mortality and morbidity. In the now still sea dead pirates bobbed up and down or clutched pieces of debris. Most had arrows protruding from their bodies.

Out in the harbor a Cornelian trawler was trying to recover one of the two ships lost in the skirmish. Wounded had been loaded onto the _Queen Jayne_ and assorted larger frigates. Those who could walk would be marching home via the Lariat Mountains. It was a horrible sight, to think that mere pirates could destroy an entire town. No, it wasn't just the pirates. The officers in charge acted irresponsibly; lives were lost today that didn't need to be and Prontera would never recover. Two hundred people were now without homes with no way to get to mainland Cornelia.

Sarina Alexandra sighed. She had never seen a battlefield before, had never wanted to see one and yet here she was. Preparing to fulfill the duty she had been training for all her life.

"Milady healer! This way please!" It was a soldier, Sarina instantly snapped out of her daze and followed the voice. She chastised herself for losing focus so easily. She had known battle magic would not be pretty, but reading about it at the monastery did little to prepare her for the real thing.

She picked up her robes and carefully negotiated the piles of rubble. She spotted a trio of troopers surrounding a casualty. "Shrapnel wounds." The soldier reported.

Sarina could see that the wounds on his hips were extensive, but they weren't bleeding bad and were not immediately life threatening. The young man was unconscious, but that was more likely due to shock than blood loss. Left untreated, the wounds would surely become infected and an amputation would be necessary- but that was why the Church had sent her here.

She pulled her hood back and closed her eyes. Her long, blond hair and robes started swirling about her as if moved by an invisible wind. She started chanting in an obscure language. While her voice was soothing, melodic even, her tone betrayed a rushed anxiety.

White light shot from her outstretched hand and bathed the fallen knight in an iridescent blue-green aura. Miraculously, fresh flesh emerged and sealed the wounds. The faint cracking of bones setting and mending could then be heard and the man woke gasping, eyes wide open.

"Are there any others?" She asked. One of the archers nodded. "This way."

The next victim was awake and sitting up, At first Sarina didn't know he was wounded until she noticed the soot covered blindfold.

"Powder keg blew in front of him, he's blind." The soldier explained.

"Remove the blindfold." Sarina commanded anxiously, unsure if there would be eyes left to restore.

"Th-the light! It hurts!" The wounded gunner exclaimed.

"Please try to open them." Sarina asked as calmly as she could. The man blinked and she was relieved to find both eyes still there, only badly smoke-burned.

"Try to keep them open... This is going to feel a little strange." She started chanting again in the same language as before but the lyrics and pace were very different. She placed her hand on the man's face and wind swirled his soot black hair around. As Sarina removed her hand a thick black cloud coalesced over the wounded soldier's eyes. The cloud gathered there for an instant, and was suddenly banished by a brilliant flash of light.

The man blinked, rubbed his eyes and blinked some more. "I- I can see! I can see!" He jumped up and embraced Sarina warmly. A few of the soldiers chuckled- more at Sarina's shocked indignation than their comrade's elation. _Anything to help these men heal_... She thought.

As she started off to join the search party moving rubble, she heard a faint groan from beneath an overturned cart. She turned and saw a bloody leg sticking out from under the vehicle. It was a hand cart, not even that heavy. Sarnina gingerly grasped it at the wheel and forced it over on it's side.

She gasped as she saw a very bloody young man under the cart. It hadn't pinned him, he was using it for cover. A large chunk of masonry protruded from his chest. Blood seeped out from around the wound. His breathing was shallow, but dry. A lung was collapsed, but not punctured.

But the most horrifying thing of all were his blood-soaked clothes. They weren't the leather armor of an archer or the chain mail of a knight. They were just ordinary clothes. This boy was a civilian!

Removing the stone would be tricky. Sarina was a white mage, not a surgeon. While a simple Cure spell was all that was needed to seal the wound and repair the damage, there was no spell for physically _removing_ projectiles lodged in someone's torso.

She would have to improvise. Pulling her sleeves back she clutched the corners of the bloody brick and pulled on it. The man groaned softly. It didn't budge; she tugged harder. Still nothing. Sarina said a quick prayer and braced one hand on the boy's abdomen as she jerked the stone out of his chest. Blood erupted all over her face, hands and robe. She wiped the blood out of her face and started casting- quickly, as the wound was now bleeding badly.

A single flash of blue-green light later and only the torn shirt and nearby bloody chunk of brick remained as evidence of the man's grievous wound. Sarina then brushed the powder dry blood off of her hands and robe. The crisis past, she now noticed that he was quite attactive.

The man groaned again, this time more of confusion than of pain. His eyes opened and he looked up at Sarina. "Where- What happened?"

Sarina shook her head. "Don't worry about that now. We need to get you out of here. Can you stand? What's your name?"

"Argus." He replied. "Argus Baron. I live around here..." He looked around. "Or, at least, I used to... The pirates did all this?"

"Mmm." Sarina responded, putting her hood up. "Most of it anyway. The knights did their share of the damage as well though. Why didn't you evacuate with the rest? Did you have family or friends left behind?"

Argus shook his head. "No, I just figured if the pirates were going to be coming ashore, I might as well make myself useful and help out. I always kinda wanted to be a knight, you know?"

Sarina frowned. "Quite courageous of you... And quite stupid. You could have- WOULD have been killed."

Argus made a nervous smirk. Then did his best to change the subject. "Are you with the Army?" he asked.

Sarina snorted. "No, of course not. I've been dispatched by the Crescent Lake Temple of Light as a liaison to the Cornelian Royal Army. They tell me where the wounded are, I take care of them. That is all."

"Oh..." Argus responded, trying to make it sound like he understood a little more than he really did. "Oh! I didn't thank you! You're a mage, right? You healed me?"

"I did, but save your thanks. Before this week is over I will be relying on you, sir knight. It's a long walk back to Cornelia... unless you have somewhere else to go..."

Argus looked around again. "No, not especially. Won't the Army escort you?"

"The hasty march here was rather... unpleasant. I am under no obligation to accompany them on their return. Unless... You don't think you can protect me, sir knight?" She turned and gave him a sly smile quite unbefitting of a priestess. Argus blushed.

"Ah, no. Not at all! Just let me find a sword. There's sure to be one laying around- hold on!"

Sarina turned and smiled to herself. _I found him, I get to keep him._


	3. Chapter 3: Voice for the People

Argus shouldered what little of his belongings he had managed to recover. "Sarina, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?" The healer replied.

"Why don't you want to travel with the Army? Not that I have any problems with escorting you- I owe you that much. It's just that, you'd probably be safer with a few hundred knights than you would be with a wannabe fighter."

"I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Argus didn't get the hint, or ignored it. "No, I don't mind. I'm not going anywhere. You trust me with your life, why not your complaints?"

"I'm not complaining!" Sarina snapped. "I have legitimate grievances with Royal Army, and the Cornelian military in general."

"Such as?"

"Well, before I found you I had a rather curt discussion with the general in charge of this mess. On behalf of the Church I protested the forced evacuation of Prontera and its conversion into a fort- not to mention its subsequent destruction."

"Good for you." Argus replied. "I'm not too thrilled with the idea of my hometown being used as cannon fodder myself."

"You don't seem too distraught over it though..."

"I didn't have any family there. I don't have any family at all. I didn't get along especially well with anyone there. I had recently lost my job and was planning on moving to Provoka or something."

"Your pirate troubles would have just been beginning."

"Yeah, I probably would have joined up with the Royal Army."

Sarina made a face like she tasted sour milk. "To each his own, I guess. Still, you don't speak too fondly of the town you nearly died trying to defend."

Argus shrugged. "Someone training to become a fighter should become accustomed to actual fighting."

"You've had formal training?"

"... no..."

Argus nudged her gently. "Hey, this was about you, remember? Why don't you like the Army?"

"Well, the supplanting of Prontera's population isn't the half of it."

"Okay, what's the whole of it?"

Sarina stopped. "After it became clear that the township was a smoking shell of its former self, I demanded that Prontera's citizenry be escorted to Cornelia. Since Prontera is _officially_ within Cornelian territory-"

"So is Provoka." Argus interjected.

Sarina gave him a look that could melt ice. "Again, on behalf of the Church I demanded that the Army accommodate the citizens whose lives they had just ruined; presumably to protect them from piracy."

"So..." Argus seemed lost in thought. "What's going to happen to the civilian survivors?"

"I managed to convince the general to take the wounded to Cornelia on one of the hospital ships. As for the walking wounded and the perfectly fine, he told me that the knights were not equipped to escort refugees, and that Cornelia City was not prepared to take them in."

"It's a village of like, two hundred."

"I know!" Sarina barked. "I told him that, but he's got a rather thick skull that one. He also wasn't very chivalrous for a knight, either. Although I can't say I don't sympathize. He was the theater commander of this little operation, as I understand it. His very career could be on the line."

The two walked in silence for a while, deliberately taking a different route to Lariat than the one the remnants of the knights would be taking. The terrain would be very rough, and would take days to cross. With the drawbridge out though, it was the only real way to get to mainland Cornelia not by boat.

"So they'll just have to rebuild I guess?" Argus asked plaintively.

"I thought you didn't care about your home town."

"You're the priestess of light! I said I didn't like it, not that they could rot."

Sarina sighed. "I can't force the knights to escort them to the mainland. And as much as I like your aggressive attitude, I don't think you've got what it takes to defend two hundred civilians."

"You like my attitude?"

Sarina rolled her eyes. "They're better off staying here. I can lodge a formal complaint at the church in Cornelia when we get there." Cardinal Vias is a white archmage. He has just a little more clout than an acolyte like me."

"So, I guess that's it then?" Argus grinned.

"What's what?"

"You and me. We're partners for the next few days. I'll protect you from gobs and you take care of whatever scratches I get in the process. Deal?" _Who knows, we may even get to know each other a bit better, your holiness._

"Sounds good." Sarina replied. _He's green and as thick as they come, but I'm really starting to like him..._

The two travelers started on the long road to the southwest.


	4. Chapter 4: Pravoka

Although it suffered from rampant chaos and total anarchy, Provoka was a beautiful city. The third largest on the Aldean, it was right on the ocean. While the port itself saw little to no legitimate traffic these days, the markets district was still rather lively. Although Captain Bikke's crew and their allies raided the shops frequently, the almighty gil remained the true supreme ruler. Local traders and caravanners from the nearby desert managed to eke out an existence in this lawless city.

Because it was not subject to the tariffs and customs restrictions of the other nation-states, Provoka was a wellspring of rare and valuable items- provided you knew where to look. Yes, knowing where to look. That was the key. Unfortunately, Gilles Arkham didn't have a clue where to start.

He hated the briny scent of sea air, and he didn't like this city. _This is foolishness!_ He thought. _You came here on a whim spawned of a rumor. You really think you'll find another crystal?_

"Watch it!" A young girl barked as she slammed into him from behind. "Outta the way, geezer!"

_Insolent cretin!_ Gilles turned to glower at her, but she was already gone. He quickly checked his robes to make sure his coin purse was still there. It was.

He really stood out from the crowd. Although he wasn't tall at all, the majority of the townsfolk seemed dressed for summer, or seafaring, or thievery. His clothes, his face- or lack thereof, and his hat were a dead giveaway that he was a black mage. Obviously uncommon in these parts, he was a ripe target for pickpockets. Mages where known to carry lots of money, scrolls, spell components and alchemical ingredients on them at all times. Gilles was actually surprised he hadn't been accosted more than he already had. He had thought about casting Shock Spikes on himself, but in such a crowded street there were plenty of people who bumped into him for perfectly innocent reasons, and that would just be irresponsible. Tempting, but irresponsible.

_Might as well get a room at an inn..._ He thought. He walked until he came to the nearest hostel that didn't look like too much of a seedy dive, and went inside.

The front lobby doubled as a pub, which was what he was looking for. Bards played some particularly awful music in the corner and a scantily clad dancing girl did her thing on a tabletop while men gambled and drank all about. Gilles walked up to the bar and sat at a stool, placed two gil on the counter and nudged the barkeep.

"Whatever you recommend, so long as it's not too hard." The barkeep balked at the request but poured the mage a drink.

Gilles looked around the room some more. There was the usual assortment of sailors and off-hours laborers about, but there was one figure in particular that caught his attention. A tall figure in extravagant red cloaks and a plumed hat sat at a far table; nursing a bottle of mulsum.

He picked up his tankard and walked over to where the man sat. The style of his clothes were very much in vogue, especially amongst Cornelian aristocracy, but the color of his garb suggested a particular trade rather than a social rank.

The black mage closed to a polite distance and stood there until the man acknowledged his presence. He didn't.

"Excuse me sir-" The man then jerked in a most undignified manner. At first Gilles had thought he was ignoring him, but now it appeared that he had been genuinely unaware of his presence.

"Ahem! Yes! Yes, what is it?" The man asked, acknowledging his existence for the first time. "Can I help you with something?"

"I hope so... May I sit?"

"Of course."

Gilles pulled out a chair and sat down. "I couldn't help but notice your attire, are you a warlock?"

"Indeed I am." The man replied. "I'm assuming you're a black magic specialist." He extended his hand. "My name is Duane Sorel."

"Gilles Arkham." The two mages shook hands.

"So, what brings you to the lovely city of Provoka?" Duane asked.

"I'm looking for something... magical. I heard a rumor that it could be found here, have you heard anything?"

"I hear lots of things." Duane replied. "But I too have a particular interest in magical artifacts- for obvious reasons. What specifically are you looking for?"

"A crystal. A small, palm-sized, nondescript, uncut gemstone. One of only four in the entire world."

Duane frowned. "One of the legendary elemental crystals from Lukhan's Prophecy?"

"I don't put much stock in prophecies."

Duane smiled. "Nor do I, but why are you searching for something so whimsical as a gem that can control the forces of nature?"

"Don't you see the power you could obtain with such an item?"

Duane shrugged. "No, all I see is a lot of wasted time searching for something like that. They're supposed to be defunct anyway, assuming they even exist..."

"Oh, they exist-" Gilles trailed off.

Duane looked at him cockeyed. "What makes you so sure?"

The black mage's blazing yellow eyes narrowed to slits and he glanced about the room anxiously. "I've seen one."

"Crystals are a rather mundane geological phenomenon, if I'm not mistaken."

Gilles sighed, then reached down his collar. He produced a long silver chain with an enormous green crystal. "Okay, I _have_ one."

"By the _gods!_" Duane exclaimed in a hushed tone.

Gilles continued. "I've heard tell that another of the four is here on this continent, and recently turned up in the possession of a local thief. Knowing thieves, he would have likely recognized the monetary value above the historical significance and pawned it off. You, being a red mage, would likely be able to point me in the direction of Provoka's covert magical items market."

Duane just sat there, not saying anything until Gilles put the crystal back under his cloak. "Where did you get that?" He finally asked.

"It belonged to my late master. He willed it to me before he died, but never told me of its existence."

"Where are you from?" Duane asked.

"Gaia."

"_Gaia?_ my, you do get around, don't you? I suppose that's the Wind Crystal then?"

Gilles nodded. "Will you help me or not?"

"Of course! I'm chasing that same rumor myself!"

Gilles winced in annoyance, but held his tongue by finishing off the last of his drink. "Well then, shall we?"

"Absolutely." Duane stood and put his gloves on. "Let's go shopping."


	5. Chapter 5: To Catch a Thief

The two mages had been searching all day, the sun was setting, and they had turned up nothing. It wasn't that Duane didn't know where to look- he did- but apparently all rumors regarding the crystal being in Provoka stopped when you actually reached Provoka.

The duo had been to general stores, armories, pawn shops, pubs, brothels, apothecaries and spell notaries. Not one establishment had produced a single lead. There were plenty of items of interest however, Duane had made it a point to purchase a new sword, several throwing knives, a flask of ether and a scroll of Invis. Gilles hoarded his money. Either Duane was absolutely loaded, or he had plans of obtaining the crystal that did not include legitimate purchase.

As the sky darkened, uniformed men came out and started lighting the street lamps. Gilles was amazed at how the city maintained fairly normal activity without a legitimate government in place. While true law and order were an impossibility- the two had witnessed several violent acts, including one murder- the populace seemed to, for the most part, adapt and survive admirably.

They were now in a lower-class markets district. Most of the shops were temporary structures set up by western caravans. Most hawked useless junk like beads, cloth and food products; and most of the 'magic' shops sold traditional superstitious charms- bereft of any real power at all.

The black mage's sulphur eyes burned in the dark evening. "Do you really think we'll find anything here?" He asked.

Duane didn't answer immediately, he seemed to be counting the cobblestones or something. "...I know a place, it's our last stop before we call it a night."

The pair continued down the street, doing their best to ignore the more aggressive merchants who practically forced their wares into your arms. They came to a small square with a defunct fountain in the center. An elderly woman appeared to be in the process of shepherding some children indoors for the night.

There was a small doorway on the side of a two story building- one of the few permanent structures in this area. Gilles followed the red mage's lead and went inside. It was dark and the stench of burning incense was nauseating. Side-stepping an unconscious drunk on a mat they took an abrupt left through a curtain of beads. Past that barrier there was a rather well-kept apartment closely resembling an alchemist's lab or a scroll shop. Books lined the shelves while pots and bottles lay cluttered about. On one table were what looked like body parts- bones, hide and organs from some unidentified monster. Gilles was beginning to wonder why this was the last place they looked instead of the first.

"Zok!" Duane called. "Zok, are you in?"

A crash could be heard from a far room- mostly metal, but some glass. Strained shuffling then sounded as a figure cast long shadows into the main room. It wasn't a monster, but almost as ugly. A crotchety old man who looked a hundred years old at least appeared. He held a ponderous tome in one hand a vial of something in the other. He squinted for a moment, then sneered. "Sorel! Sorel, you have some nerve showing your ugly face around here! I told you before! You're not welcome here, leave at once!"

Duane held his ground. "Zok, I need a favor-"

"Balderdash!" The man cried. "Your irresponsible haste ruined the experiment! I'm lucky to be alive! And you come in here demanding a favor! Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you to stone and use you for ballast!"

"Well, I am immune to petrification..."

"Bah! I'll not use a spell! I'll stick you in the ground and do it the old fashioned way! And who's this idiot you've brought in here?"

_Watch it, old man_. The black mage's eyes narrowed. "My name is Gilles Arkham, sir. I've come seeking information on one of the four elemental crystals."

Zok sneered. "Fairy tales! Stories Cornelian peasants tell their children at night so they won't be afraid of vampires!"

Duane sighed. "Show him."

"Show me what?"

Gilles reached inside his robes and brought out the chain. Although it was faded, the green Wind Crystal was still beautiful in the dim light, which it reflected brightly.

Zok's eyes seemed to get smaller, if that were at all possible. "It can't be!" He waddled right up to Gilles and grabbed it, bringing it as close as he could to his hideous face. "It is! Where did you get this?"

"I don't know where it comes from originally." He knelt down so the old man could get a better look. "The markings on the chain appear to be in Lufenian, can you read it?"

"No one can read Lufenian, fool! But it is, it is the Wind Crystal! Fascinating!"

Gilles continued. "I have reason to believe that one of the remaining three is here in Pravoka. I've heard that a local pirate by the name of Vasquez or something 'acquired' it. He's probably sold it by now, but I've been unable to trace him or the crystal. We've been searching all day and, well, here we are."

"Yes, here you are." Zok replied. "I know Kelga. He's a good kid, you can trust him." The old man pulled out a crate and sat down. Gilles shot Duane an angry glare, who merely threw up his arms in response. Zok prattled on. "He's been subverting Black Beard's gang for almost five years now, but to no avail. He brings me all kinds of rare and valuable things. I can't pay him well, but he seems more content in witnessing the science than reaping the rewards. Ah, yes. He reminds me of a young DUANE SOREL before wealth spoiled him and power corrupted him!"

"I don't deserve this!" Duane yelled.

"Yes you do." Zok continued. "Kelga's not a peasant. He's not a noble either, but he comes from a distinguished family, or rather a family that was once distinguished."

"Vasquez..." Duane mused. "As in the shipping consortium?"

The old man nodded. "The very same. Bikke personally ruined his family, framed them, brought the Royal Navy down on them. Hard. He's the only survivor. That was... Ten years ago. Pravoka was a free trade city back then, now it's just a pirate's den."

"So he's not a pirate himself?" Gilles asked.

Zok shook his head. "He calls himself a 'survivalist' or 'treasure hunter' among other things, he has a keen interest in some of the more exotic melee arts. He's fascinated with black magic, but the poor boy's too stupid to grasp it."

"So he's a common thief." The wizard grunted.

"He is a thief, it's the gods' truth, but you can trust him. He steals just enough to survive and anything beyond that he liberates from the pirates. He doesn't attack his targets, and only kills in self defense."

Duane cut in. "Was that family not a clan of ninja in ages past?"

Zok glowered. "Don't talk to me."

"So would he have been likely to sell the crystal?" Gilles asked.

Zok shook his head. "No, he's not really money motivated. More revenge motivated than anything. No, he would have been curious about it and brought it here to me. The fact that he hasn't worries me some, it suggests he knows something of it already."

"He has been covering his tracks rather well. Do you know where we can find him?"

Zok snorted. "That boy has no home, whichever alley he falls asleep in is his home. If he hoards his loot in an attic somewhere, I don't know where it is. He comes to me when he's found something he wants me to look at."

Gilles winced. This was just great. Now they had a name and a godamn life story, but no information on where to find the little brat. "Do you think he'll show up soon?" He asked.

"It's hard to say, I haven't seen him in several days."

"Is that unusual?"

"Kind of, yes."

The black mage was at a loss for what to do. The thief was being cautious, he probably knew people were looking for a crystal as well. He wouldn't approach Zok if the strangers were laying in wait. Gilles reached for a piece of paper and a quill pen. He scribbled a name and address on it. "If he shows up, and would like to learn more about his little trinket, he can find us here." He handed the paper to Zok.

"He won't go to you, you know." Zok replied.

"Then how do we find him?"

Zok's face spawned an evil grin that Gilles found most disconcerting. "Draw him out!"

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Oh come now, you're a black mage! Bikke's out at sea, as are most of his men. When the cat's away, the mage will play. Blow some stuff up. Hit the pirates in ways the kid's been wanting to for years!"

"You can't be serious!" Duane cried. "Gilles, he can't- Gilles?"

The black mage didn't say anything, his eyes just flared red hot.


	6. Chapter 6: Thrown to the Wolves

Argus clutched the hilt of his blade tightly. Although the evening air was rather brisk, sweat poured down his face and neck. Somehow, the small saber he'd scavenged didn't seem sufficient, nor did the charred leather armor he'd recovered. He stood back to back with Sarina, surrounded by a pack of wolves- four in total. The feral canines turned monsters kept their distance, salivating and growling in low tones. 'Wolf' was actually something of a misnomer when describing these creatures. Although there may have been true wolves in this area as recently as four hundred years ago, they were all but extinct; replaced by canid monsters that lacked the careful sophistication of their natural counterparts. These feral nakk were vicious, bloodthirsty killers and had little or no pack structure beyond who had the strongest jaws and the sharpest teeth. Although domesticated by goblins and ogres the nakk family of monsters were incompatible with humans- who they regarded as prey. This particular pack had found what experience told them was an easy meal, a pair of travelers.

The wolves growled and snarled. An attack was imminent, but they appeared to be gauging the strength of their prey, just as their namesake predecessors must have done ages ago. Argus was actually impressed with how calm Sarina remained in the face of such peril, either she had misplaced confidence in the would-be fighter's abilities, or she was using some meditation technique. Argus hoped it was the latter.

Sarina studied her adversaries with a stoic anxiety. She knew no attack spells that would harm the living, but brandished a large maul that would be more than sufficient for dispatching these beasts. She just hoped her swings would be fast and precise.

Argus took initiative and broke for the nearest pair, yelling and swinging his blade wildly. The pair separated and flanked him, while the second pair did the same to Sarina. Argus immediately about-faced and rushed to guard the healer, who was in the process of bludgeoning one wolf to death. As she brought her hammer down repeatedly on the whimpering canine two came at her from either side. Argus could only be in one place at once. He executed a lunging thrust that pierced one wolf's ribcage. He yelled and roared as loud as he could, causing the second wolf to hesitate just enough to get its head crushed by a deft hammer blow.

Only one wolf remained, but it didn't back down. Sarina began chanting something Argus suspected to be a spell. As if from nowhere golden white light enveloped him and created an ethereal barrier that ran the contours of his body, much like armor but without the encumbrance. The wolf charged and Argus ran forward to meet it, swinging his blade.

He executed one broad, horizontal slash that was a clean miss. The wolf immediately changed direction and lunged for the fighter's leg. Although his boots were hardened leather, Argus had no illusions of them holding up to those long, ivory fangs. The wolf's jaws clamped down on his ankle, but the teeth struck something hard. In the exact area of the strike translucent light intercepted the blow. The wolf was caught off guard and Argus was unscathed. He swiftly brought his saber down between the dog's shoulder blades. It convulsed and whimpered briefly, then went limp.

"You're not bad!" Sarina huffed.

Argus drew a cloth and started wiping the blood from his sword. "Thanks, but your magic, whatever that was, saved the day. I'd be lame right now if it weren't for you."

Sarina smiled. "Protect. It's one of the most basic spells in my repertoire. I'd have been able to heal you if your leg was crushed, I just figured I'd spare you the pain."

Argus laughed. "Thanks. You're no slouch with a hammer either!"

"I'd hope not, I've been training since I was eight years old."

The man frowned. "Is melee combat a large part of a cleric's training?"

Sarina fixed her hammer back to her belt, and tucked it beneath her cloak. "It depends on what branch of the priesthood one wishes to enter. Theology and white magic often go hand in hand, but are not one and the same. While I invoke the gods' power in my spells, the extrinsic energies employed can be used by anyone, so white magic is not the exclusive domain of the Church."

Argus got a blank look on his face. "Um..."

"White magic is a large and diverse school of magic, that encompasses far more than mere healing and protection spells. While almost all members of the priesthood are proficient in its use, true white mages- those who venture into the world to make practical use of their knowledge- must be prepared to defend themselves. Caring for the wounded and protecting the threatened from harm often requires the mage to put his own person in considerable danger. While it is primarily sanative in nature, white magic is still very much battle magic and its practitioners must be prepared for battle."

Argus' blank stare gave way to sudden recognition. "So you're like a combat chemist."

"Not quite, we're generally discouraged from fully affiliating ourselves with professional armies, not to mention we're forbidden to use bladed weapons. Also, we use spells instead of potions but I suppose our basic role in combat is very similar. It takes much longer to train a mage than a medic but the benefit is that white magic can accomplish far greater things than modern medicine, at least on the battlefield."

The pair began walking again. Although the sun was beginning to set in the west, the moon was already rising and the sky was clear. It would be a good night for making progress and Argus planned on taking full advantage of the good visibility. "How are you holding up? Are you tired?"

"Not really, why?"

"Looks like we'll have a fairly clear night, and I'm kind of picky about my campsites."

"No complaints here." Sarina replied. "We'll walk until we find a good spot, preferably one with moving water nearby."

Argus nodded. "So, are you from Crescent Lake?"

"Yes and no. I was born there, and my family lives there, I'm officially attached to the church there as well, but I was raised in a convent in Onrac from the age of five."

"Must be rough."

"...Why?"

Argus glanced at the young woman's face, who didn't return the gesture. "I mean, how you were brought up. Your childhood. It wasn't your choice, was it? It was your family's decision and you were the one who had to go through it all."

"You make the convent sound so terrible. It's not. It's a beautiful, quiet and peaceful place. Everyone is so amicable and there is so much to learn and do. I would go back to Onrac before I would return to my 'home' in Crescent Lake, if given a choice."

"But it still wasn't your decision, was it? To become a priestess?"

"My family is very closely affiliated with the Church. While not all of us are members of the clergy, all have been devout believers and earnest philanthropists in the service of communities everywhere. It's not any different from sending your child to be a smith's apprentice or military school. It's an education. I've learned a valuable trade- one that's in high demand. Upon my graduation, it was my own choice to remain with the Church, but I am my own person."

"Oh, well I guess that's okay."

Sarina turned to her companion. "Have you lived around here your whole life?"

Argus shook his head. "I'm actually from Duergar. I'm human, mind you, but I was born in Melmond. My mother died when I was very young. I never knew her, and my father fell to sickness when I was three years old. He was a farmer."

"What happened to you then?"

"I was shuffled around between orphanages until a dwarf named Liam took me in. Taught me a thing or two about metalworking. He was the closest thing I had to a real father. He died four years ago. Natural causes. I moved to Prontera the following year when the earth rot hit Melmond. A lot of the farm hands were out of work at that time and I couldn't compete with the dwarven blacksmiths so I headed east, and here I am.

"Sounds like you're the one who had it rough." Sarina murmured.

"Well then, this will just be a new beginning for me. My hometown's gone, I've nothing to hold me down- I was getting bored of menial labor. I guess I was fated to become a fighter. Maybe you and I can travel the world and slay monsters and save people."

"Tempting, but I go where the Church dispatches me." She smiled.

"Oh, right. You don't seem like freelance mercenary material."

"I thought you wanted to become a knight?"

Argus smiled. "I'm kind of liking this adventuring business!"

"Hah!" Sarina scoffed. "This is day one. Let's see if that enthusiasm holds when I practically have to carry your broken shell into Cornelia City on a levitation spell."

The two walked in silence for another hour or so until they came to a small freshwater brook on the border of a sparse timber. It was already nightfall and both were beginning to feel the fatigue as the excitement over their previous encounter subsided- although neither would admit to it.

"This looks like as good a place as any." Argus sighed.

The white mage nodded. "Yes, this will do nicely. I'll set up my tent, you'll have first watch."

"YOUR tent? It's a four-person tent!"

"Yes, but you have a cozy one-person sleeping bag, and you're my first line of defense against monsters. You're sleeping outside sir knight."

"I'll go gather firewood." Argus murmured and shuffled off.


	7. Chapter 7: Unpleasant Morning

The beast had returned. Gilles was frozen in stone-cold terror, he knew from experience what would happen today. After all, this wouldn't be the first time he would witness his master's demise, and it wouldn't be the last. He held his hat down low over his face to shield himself from the blasting sandstorm, he was a mere few strides behind his master. The black wizard marched through the desert towards an enormous silhouette, oblivious to his inevitable and gruesome death. Gilles tried to warn him, but as usual, he couldn't speak.

Suddenly the wind stopped, and the swirling clouds of sand dropped from the sky without warning. The massive shadow that had looked like a statue or castle was revealed. It was the dreaded beast that had plagued his nightmares for months, a huge five-headed dragon; tan with blue tiger stripes and eyes that blazed with malevolent power. Gilles tried to scream, but he couldn't even open his mouth.

His master raised his arms to the sky and started chanting the most powerful spell he knew- Blizzaga. The wind returned, but it was now frigid and laden with snow. The snowstorm coalesced into a raging cyclone, which then focused into a beam of light that blasted the beast with the full power of ice. Although it was foolish, Gilles allowed himself to indulge in hope as the blast exploded into gigantic shards of zero-energy water that would have torn any other living thing asunder.

When the storm cleared, all five heads began their wicked chorus; screaming, roaring, growling and hissing. Together, they sounded like a laughter so hideous it threatened to stop Gilles' heart. His master was resigned to his fate, and merely nodded and lowered his staff while the dragon's heads descended upon him. The central head snapped down on the old wizard, and two attacked from the side. Together, they ripped the archmage to bloody shreds and devoured them.

He couldn't move, he couldn't speak, he couldn't cast spells. Gilles was petrified in place, hoping the beast wouldn't see him. Much to his despair, all five heads focused directly on him. The central head roared, while the smaller four shrieked; despite its size the beast swooped down on the mage with surprising speed. The breath was hot and reeked with venom.

Gilles gasped and sat up straight, cold sweat pouring down his face. Across the room, Duane spun around and stared at his roommate quizzically. Gilles straightened his hat and gazed around, bewildered and disoriented. Duane was sitting in front of the mirror, apparently in the midst of shaving. Gilles didn't recognize him at first, but his short-term memory came flooding back and he recognized both the red mage and the inn room they had rented in Pravoka.

Duane slowly turned around and resumed shaving. "...Are you all right?"

Gilles mopped some of the sweat from his face with his sleeve. "Yes, I... It was just a dream, that's all."

"What about?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The warlock didn't press the issue, much to Gilles' relief. The black mage sat up and began to gather his belongings. "Are you almost finished? We need to scope out our targets today."

The red mage set the blade down and wiped his face. "This is a very bad idea, you know."

_Not again._ Gilles sighed. "Look, they're pirates. We're not going to be doing anything a chivalrous troop of knights wouldn't do-"

"I don't have any moral objections to this endeavor, I'm merely speaking out of... enlightened self interest."

"I have no intention of confronting the pirates directly. We're merely going to destroy enough of their assets and disrupt their operations enough to make young Mr. Vasquez take notice." Gilles sat down and started putting his boots on. "Besides, it will be fun. Where's your sense of adventure?"

Duane sighed. "I just think there's a better way..."

The black mage rolled his amber eyes. "I'm listening."

"Exactly. We're both fresh out of leads, and although I don't trust that old man any more than you do, he's right. This is the only reliable way to find the thief."

"And when we find him?" Duane asked. "Do you expect him to relinquish the crystal in exchange for our deeds?"

"I haven't really planned that far." Gilles admitted. "We don't know much about this Kelga, other then he's fallen from grace, is on the wrong side of the law, hates Bikke and loves science." The wizard stroked his chin. "Perhaps our strike on the pirates will earn his trust, and his curiosity will drive him to learn more about the crystal in his possession."

"He's certainly no common thief." Duane mused.

Gilles snorted. "That much is clear. The little bastard is giving us quite the runaround, and doing so deliberately. He'll probably be difficult to persuade, but let's concentrate on the mission at hand, okay?"

Duane nodded and put his hat on. "Black Beard Bikke has a sizable pirate fleet consisting of several ships of varying classes. His flagship, the _Nirvana_, is a stolen Cornelian runabout. The fastest conventional ship in existence. Most of his fleet is currently at sea, with only two ships remaining in port. Basic black magic should be sufficient to sink these, provided I can sneak aboard and 'arrange' the gunpowder stores appropriately beforehand."

Gilles nodded. "I'm liking the sound of this."

Duane continued. "Bikke's gang holds several warehouses in the southern port district, where a vast majority of his hoarded loot is held. Because of the nature of this city, such assets must be heavily guarded. You should be equipped with enough magic to destroy these, but getting to them will be a problem. I have a plan, but I'll need to see the compound myself beforehand. The third and final target of opportunity is Bikke's chateau in northeastern Pravoka. It used to belong to the Vasquez Consortium and was both their home and company headquarters. This will be the most heavily guarded of the three areas, and the most difficult to destroy- because if memory serves, it's a stone keep."

Gilles scoffed. "I can demolish a castle."

Duane nodded. "Of that I have no doubt, but the main problem will again be getting close enough. In fact, stealth will be our most serious concern tonight. I know several spells that would render us invisible to an elf, let alone a human. The problem with this approach is, of course-"

"We want to be detected."

"Exactly. Vasquez will take notice of the destruction, no doubts there; but will he lay low and let us finish the job, or come out to take advantage of the chaos?"

Gilles stood. "We can discuss this later, we have all day to survey the scene. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Duane frowned. "Yes, I'm wondering if there are also some detailed maps we could purchase. What do you suggest we do first?"

"Eat." The black mage grunted. "I'm starving."

* * *

Argus awoke to singing. His eyes snapped open as the morning sun burned into them from the east. He groaned and rolled over, facing the small river to the west. He saw two things: The source of the singing- Sarina, and something he probably should not have seen- Sarina bathing in the river. Argus quietly rolled back over, careful to conceal the fact that he'd caught a glimpse of the healer's glorious backside. _Not a bad way to start the day._ He opened his eyes and looked out over the countryside. It was a beautiful day, but rain clouds were gathering on the horizon. They were still a hard day's march from the foothills of Mt. Lariat. They needed to get a move on. 

Sarina's singing was unlike any he'd heard before. The melody was slow and soothing, but uplifting at the same time. He'd never heard the song before, and the lyrics were in a language he didn't understand. Just as the song was about to lull him back to sleep, a malodorous stench wafted into his nose. His eyes immediately snapped open and he scanned the immediate area. _We're not alone here after all._

Waddling noiselessly among the trees was a single ogre. It was full-grown, but smallish for its age. It was still more than large enough to be a significant threat- the giant humanoid stared towards the river where Sarina was bathing. Argus rolled back over as quickly and quietly as he could. He called to his companion in a hushed tone. "Sarina? Sarina!"

She gasped and spun around, sinking into the water up to her waist and covering her chest at the same time. "Argus Baron!" She fumed. "I knew you were uncouth, but this-"

"Shh!" The fighter gave her a stern glare.

She saw the seriousness in his face and immediately went silent. "_What is it?_" She whispered.

"_Ogre_!" Argus whispered back. He quietly reached for his saber and unfastened the straps of his sleeping bag. He didn't know what to do, but he didn't care. He would feel better just having a blade in hand. That cold determination was shattered when the ground began to shake and Sarina began to scream.

The ogre had begun bounding headlong towards the stream, where the unarmed and _completely_ unarmored woman stood in hip-deep water and shrieked. Argus lunged for his sword and rolled out of the bag, partially undressed and bereft of any armor whatsoever- not that leather armor would protect him from the log-sized club the beast was carrying. He rolled to his feet and ran to intercept the fiend, swinging his sword and yelling as loud as he could.

The male human's impotent threat display distracted the ogre just long enough for Sarina to break for shore. The giant glowered and bellowed at Argus, swinging its club in wide arcs, a single blow from the massive object would be lethal. Argus kept his distance. Now that Sarina was out of immediate danger he began worrying about himself. Although humans were better built for running than giants, at this close range an escape wouldn't be possible. An attack was almost as futile, lunging for the abdomen or chest would be preferable, but these areas were out of reach. Argus doubted he could get in close enough to execute such an attack without getting crushed. _I'm in trouble_.

Suddenly a familiar white light enveloped him, it was Sarina's spell, Protect. The same one she had used on him yesterday when they fought the wolves. Argus was glad to finally have some support, but he wondered if it would really offer much defense against such a massive weapon. The giant spun around to see the source of the spell, a naked and drenched Sarina came sprinting out of the timber swinging her hammer like an amazon and shrieking like a banshee. _You have GOT to be kidding!_ Argus couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Before Argus could take advantage of the diversion the giant swiftly raised its club and brought it down in a heavy, vertical swing. It came down with a loud impact, and rended the ground where Sarina had been just seconds before. "NO! Sarina!" Argus yelled.

The giant raised its club to examine the corpse, but there was none. Bewildered, it spun around in all directions- only to see another woman come running out of the trees, followed by another, and another. All of them yelling. _What in the depths of Hell?_ Argus stared dumbfounded. Each image was a perfect copy of Sarina, only translucent and flickering. The giant swung and bellowed, but every time it struck a shadow it merely flickered out of existence. Argus wasted no more time. This diversion, however impressive, wouldn't last forever. One of those was the real Sarina. He had to end this quick.

The last four copies flashed together into one and started chanting, the ogre bellowed and brought up its club; but just as it did a blinding white flash erupted in front of its face. It howled and dropped its weapon, covering its eyes; and turned to face in the opposite direction. Argus charged for its legs, he spun and slashed at the left leg as hard as he could. The ogre howled in pain as its leg muscles were lacerated. It went down on one knee and swung its arm backhanded at the human. White light flashed and the Protect spell absorbed the blow, but Argus still flew back quite a ways. Unharmed, he quickly rolled to his feet and charged back at the giant- although it appeared to be able to see again, its lower stature made it a much more vulnerable target.

The ogre roared and pounded the ground, but Argus quickly rolled out of the way and resumed running. He lunged as hard as he could, thrusting his sword into the giant's belly all the way up to the hilt. It howled again but rather than counter-attacking, it pitched convulsively. Argus yanked the sword out at a rough angle which was followed by a crimson spray of blood and bluish-pink entrails.

The ogre grasped at its gushing mortal wound but still pitched backward into the dirt. Argus wasted no time; he leapt up onto the chest and stabbed down exactly where the heart would be on a human. The ogre thrashed once more but lay still after that. The human dismounted and sat down in the moist grass, gasping for breath.

The threat neutralized, Sarina dove into the tent to dry off and get dressed. "Good job!" She called before she sealed the flap shut.

Argus lay down on his back and stared up at the clouds. "Thanks! Likewise!" _What a way to start the day indeed._


	8. Chapter 8: Cursed Crystals

The rain fell in heavy sheets. Argus and Sarina had made impeccable time, and were already upon the northeastern most foothills of Mt. Lariat. The duo made plenty of small talk the first half of the day, but now exhausted of inconsequential topics they marched in silence for what seemed like hours. Argus was reluctant to bring up the morning's ordeal. Although she hardly acted like the stereotypical prudish priestess, Sarina had not said anything about her nude battle with the ogre. The fighter suspected she was incredibly embarrassed, and did his best to act like it was no big deal. Those noble tendencies were beginning to erode as boredom set in. This was only day two of their journey and already the duo knew each other like siblings. A genuine friendship had blossomed and both suspected that their friendship could easily evolve into something more. His mind furiously searched for something to talk about. He found a topic, but before he could decide on whether or not it was appropriate, his stimuli-starved mind blurted it out:

"So... Where did you get that chain?"

Sarina didn't answer immediately. "...What chain?"

"Oh, come on. Don't play dumb. It was the only thing you were wearing! How could I not notice?"

The white mage giggled quietly. "I knew you didn't forget so easily!"

"How could I? You're incredibly beautiful."

She looked at him for the first time in hours and smiled. "Aw, that's sweet. You're nice looking too!"

Argus felt his cheeks get hot despite the heavy rain. "Um, about that chain?"

"Ah, of course." The healer pulled her right sleeve back and reached down her collar. She fumbled momentarily and then brought up a silver chain. It was long- it seemed several sizes too large for her. The chain itself had exotic markings all along its length. The glyphs appeared to be writing of some kind, but Argus couldn't make it out. The most prominent feature of the jewelry, however, was the pendant: A large, faded, uncut blue crystal was set in the mount. It glistened faintly as the rain spattered off its facets.

Argus' eyes got wide and his jaw dropped. "What IS that?"

Sarina looked puzzled. "This is the Light of the Sea. It's the secret treasure of Onrac, passed down to the convent's ranking wizard. In ages past, before the Shrine sank, it was reputed to be able to control the ocean waves. In those days, Onrac was a thriving port city like many on the Aldean, and the ocean's bounty made her extremely prosperous. That was some two hundred years ago. The crystal has since lost its power."

"So how did you get it?"

Sarina glared at him. "I'll pretend you didn't ask that or assume you were merely ignorant of the fact I graduated at the top of my class."

Argus wanted to slap himself in the face. "Oh, right, sorry. What I mean is, why would they let you travel the world with it? Why not keep it there where it's safe?"

"Simple." The healer replied. "The Light has lost its power, it no longer has any dominion over the sea and as such it is not only of no benefit to Onrac, it is a detriment. The Light is cursed."

"Cursed?"

Sarina nodded gravely. The infliction is said to coincide with the Shrine's destruction and the sea's decline two hundred years ago. I have taken it upon myself not only to find a way to remove the curse, but to spare the city the burden."

"So, what? Does it bring you misfortune or something?"

Sarina shook her head. "No. It's strange, but I actually feel somehow... safer when I have it in my possession. Not only is it a great honor, but it makes me fell at peace; like I'm somehow closer to the ancient gods of the sea. Although-"

"Although what?"

"It's nothing."

"No, what?"

The healer sighed. "Since I inherited the Light I've been having... horrible nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

Sarina nodded. "They're unspeakable. They don't occur every night, but a few times every week. I always wake up in terror, but the malaise wears off quickly, and I am otherwise unaffected."

Argus didn't say anything for a while. "What are the dreams about?"

Sarina exhaled sharply. "I'm drowning, and there's a monster in the water. I can't make it out because the water is so dark, but it has numerous tentacles. It's devouring people. My friends, my family, everyone I hold dear and there's nothing I can do. I can't even move."

Now Argus was completely silent.

"And when they're all dead..." She continued. "It comes after me."

Argus suppressed a shudder. "Sounds... Sounds horrible."

Sarina nodded. "It is, but like I said, it doesn't happen every night. I'm fine the following day too, so I suspect it's just a benign side-effect of the Light's greater curse."

The two walked in silence for a few more minutes until Sarina spoke up again. "You seem unreasonably disturbed by this. Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Because." The fighter responded. "I had one just like it."

Sarina stopped dead in her tracks. "You what? That's not possible, there's only one in existence."

Argus stopped alongside her. "Well, not exactly like it. The gemstone was amber colored."

The white mage didn't say anything immediately. She looked down at the crystal in her hands. "You don't have it anymore? Where did you get it? What happened to it?"

"Remember Liam? The dwarf I told you about- the one who raised me? It had been in his family since his great grandfather excavated it near Melmond. It used to shine, glow really. I remember how brightly it used to glow. Liam always said it was magic, but because dwarves aren't the best with magic he could never get it to do anything. Liam never had any children of his own, so he gave it to me. When he died... it stopped glowing. I kept it for a while, but it gave me nightmares- dreams almost exactly like the ones you described. So I got rid of it."

"You didn't sell it, did you?"

"Oh no, of course not. I just couldn't wear it anymore. Liam didn't have any next-of-kin, so I had it added to his tomb. It's in a mausoleum in the catacombs beneath Mt. Duergar right now."

Sarina looked up into the fighter's eyes. "We have to go get it."

"What?"

She shook her head stubbornly. "No, I'm serious. It's no mere trinket, if it's almost exactly like the Light it must be incredibly important. It's afflicted with a curse almost exactly like that which plagues the Light only- When did you say it lost its glow?"

"Four years ago."

She stroked her chin and looked down into the mud. "What could- The earth rot! That's when the first reports of earth rot came out of Duergar! It has to be connected!"

Argus frowned. "So you're saying the land near Melmond is decaying because that crystal doesn't shine anymore? That's ridiculous. Duergar's top scientists don't know what's causing the earth rot."

"That's because it's supernatural."

"An entire continent? Cursed?"

"It stands to reason. The sea's become more and more turbulent around Onrac, and every year the fishing ships have to go further out to find anything. The sea is suffering in the same way the land is suffering, and that death is spreading."

"So what do we do with the crystals? How do we get the curse removed?"

The white mage looked up at him with grim determination. "I don't know, but let's worry about one thing at a time, okay? Let's get your crystal back!"

"What about Cornelia? What about your job? We'll be halfway to Cornelia City when we cross this mountain!"

"This is more important!" The mage fumed. "We can come back to Cornelia after we grab your crystal. This is only a... quick detour."

Argus laughed. "Yeah right. Mt. Duergar is in the middle of... Duergar. That's quite a vast stretch of land for a 'little detour'."

"Maybe we can get a boat back from Duergar City."

The fighter rolled his eyes. "Or we could get a boat TO Duergar City from Cornelia!"

Sarina sighed. "If I report to Cardinal Vias he may send me somewhere; somewhere far away. We can't risk that, we have to bring the crystal back to him!"

Argus grinned mischievously. "And he won't mind you showing up almost a month after the knights return?"

"He'll be forgiving when he sees what we've brought. Come on, let's go."

Argus shrugged. "I don't have anything better to do."

The two resumed slogging through the muddy foothills in the pouring rain. Argus spoke up again. "So you're not- uncomfortable talking about that ogre interrupting your bath?"

Sarina smiled. "No, not in the least."

"Good 'cause-"

Her eyes narrowed. "Because what?"

Argus smiled. "I wouldn't mind seeing an encore presentation! Sans the ogre, of course."

She punched him in the shoulder, hard, and then walked off without him.

"So, is that a 'no'?" He started after her. "What if I get naked too?"


	9. Chapter 9: Assaulting the Pirates

Insects and seabirds dipped and soared in the evening air. The sea breeze was cool at this time of day, although it still smelled briny. Along the docks of Pravoka's southern port district workers hauled boxes to and from several moored ships; once again, Gilles was impressed by the resilience of normal activity in the face of rampant anarchy. More impressive however, were the assets at Bikke's disposal. The wizard adjusted his broad-brimmed hat. _This isn't a pirate fleet, it's a small outlaw navy._ The black mage stood among several large crates and barrels on an abandoned pier overlooking the two ships of Bikke's that remained in port. Both were on par with a naval armada, sporting iron plating and heavy cannonries on the side. The fact that these ships were crewed by violent brigands sent chills down Gilles' spine. A black flag flew from the ships' main mast, sporting the unmistakable insignia of Bikke's fleet: an unconventional Jolly Roger with a sahagin's skull instead of a human's and sabers instead of crossbones.

Seeing the massive warships in the harbor made Gilles feel a bit more inadequate than he had felt during the planning phase. He had no doubts that his master would have been able to sink the ships with ease- the late Homac Topapa was a true black wizard; able to use third-tier elemental spells and 7th level black magic. He was sure that a single Firaga would be more than sufficient to destroy each ship, but such advanced spells were as yet out of his league. They would be relying on the ships' onboard stores of gunpowder and nitro to do the job; the black magic would merely be a catalyst. On the nearest vessel, Gilles could make out the pirate crew moving about at a lackluster pace. _Enjoy what's left of your lives, scum._

_Focus! Focus!_ The wizard cleared his mind and began tapping into his intrinsic reserves of mana, in this meditative state he could practically feel the elemental forces swirling about him: The four prime elements of fire, earth, wind and especially here at the seashore, water. There were the secondary elements as well: lightning and ice. The transcendental elements, light and darkness, governed the other six in eternal opposition. Fire, heat, combustion; these would be the order of the day- an incantation as old as time itself that would excite matter at a molecular level and conjure up enough fuel for ignition. Fire was one of Gilles' favorite spells, although Blizzard was more powerful the former was much more appropriate for destroying a wooden ship.

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him and heard the click of a flint lock pistol. "Hands in the air, spell slinger!" A gruff, female voice commanded. Gilles calmly did as instructed. "Now, turn around, mage! Slowly!" Again, Gilles complied. Doing a one-eighty in place he came face to face with a pirate, who held a slug thrower right at his face.

"Can I help you?" The wizard asked coldly, doing his best to keep his voice clean of fear. Sometimes, not having a face had its advantages.

The woman sneered. "I'm askin' the questions, hear? Just what're ye doing on our turf? If yer lookin' to make trouble, you'll be findin' more than ye bargained for! Now, drop yer weapons. All of 'em, and when you tell me what ye're doin' here, it'd best be in a language I can understand. None o' that hocus-pocus, hear?"

Gilles nodded and slowly reached into his robes, pulling out the wicked, serrated ceremonial dagger he carried on him at all times. _I'm being robbed and interrogated, keep your cool_. He slowly knelt down and set the knife on the dock.

"Now! Just what ye be doin' 'ere?"

The black mage cleared his throat. "Im... Looking for someone, I'm not here to make trouble I assure you."

"I'll be the judge of that! Just who're ye lookin' for?"

_Curses, you fool!_ Gilles had forgotten that Kelga Vasquez was the mortal enemy of Bikke's gang. _Oh well, maybe it will buy me some time and provide some info._ "Kelga Vasquez." The wizard muttered plaintively.

The pirate's eyes went wide. "Ye're in league with that li'l pouf? Ye're just asking to be shot in the face, aren't ye?"

Gilles decided to play dumb. "So, you know him?"

The pirate snorted. "Of course! That li'l fairy boy is such a nuisance! Always stealin' and sabotagin'... The Cap'n has put a fifty thousand gil price on his head. Only problem is, he's something of a local hero around these parts. She'it! For fifty k I'd throw my own mama to the sharks!"

_I don't doubt that, cur._ "He's no friend of mine, he's taken something extremely valuable that belonged to my former master. An item of incredible power."

"I don't care about any o' that!" She shook the pistol at him. "This here's private property! Ye're gonna leave, but first, I'm gonna liberate whatever ye got on ye. Cough it up!"

Gilles was NOT about to relinquish the Wind Crystal to this brigand, although he couldn't see any clear alternatives at the moment. Where was that damned red mage? He tried stalling:

"Do you know where I can find Kelga?"

The pirate winced, a clear signal that he had asked the wrong thing. "Look, ya wonky bastard, I told ya; if I knew where he was, I'd be cashin' in on the Cap'n's reward an' gettin' promoted. No more jib-jab, what've you got on ye?"

"Well, there's my knife." Gilles slowly reached into his robes, careful to conceal the chain that held the crystal. "I have about six thousand gil on me at the moment."

"Now we're talkin'! What else've ye got on ye?"

Gilles shrugged. "Spell scrolls, spell components, alchemical ingredients. I doubt any of that would be of much use to you."

"No, but I can hawk 'em off!" The pirate cocked her head. "What in blazes is THAT?"

_Oh gods, no._ She saw it. "This, is a useless piece of costume jewelry my master gave to me before he died. It's relatively worthless, aside from the sentimental value, but it's all I have of him."

"She'it! The chain's solid silver! I don't care if the jewel's fake, that's worth about ten k at least! Fork it over!"

_Great job, Arkham. Appeal to a pirate's sense of sympathy. Any more brilliant plans?_ "No." The black mage said in a very disconcerting tone.

Black mages typically had strange voices, the same effect that shrouded their faces made their voices echo like talking through a jar or something. While there was little Gilles could do to dispel the effect, he could easily exploit it to make him sound threatening. Unfortunately, the pirate merely laughed.

"Okay, mage. We can do this the easy way, or the VERY easy way! Ye live or ye die, it's that simple. Either way, I'm walkin' away with that trinket tonight."

"It's mine." Gilles responded coldly.

The pirate smiled and shrugged. "Have it your way." She straightened her arm and held the gun level to his face. "See you in Hell, spell slinger!"

Suddenly, Gilles felt a stiff wind and heard the heavy clank of metal on metal. Sparks and blood flew as the pirate's gun went careening into the water, complete with a few fingers. "WHAT THE HELL?" She screamed and spun around. Her outraged shriek terminated in a wet gasp as something ran her through. Gilles couldn't make it out, but whatever it was stabbed her from the front. Only a blood-soaked silhouette suggested that she had even been penetrated. She gurgled some more and went limp, the invisible blade retracted and she slumped to the dock with a heavy thud.

One multi-hued flash of light later and the pirate slayer was revealed. Duane produced a cloth and wiped the blood off of his rapier. "Couldn't stay out of sight, could you?"

Gilles sighed. "What in blazes took you so long?"

The red mage smiled wickedly. "I had an idea!"

The black mage raised an eyebrow, but it only served to change the shape of his eyes. "Care to share this idea?"

"Oh..." The warlock's smile disappeared. "I abandoned it. It was good in theory, but ultimately untenable."

Gilles sighed again. "Are the ships ready?"

Duane nodded. "Yes, of course. I tried to set something up with cannon balls. You know, so the explosion would send them to blast the opposite ships and the warehouses over in the port, but that wouldn't work- for several reasons."

"The gunpowder is concentrated in the bow?"

"Of the nearest ship, yes. The explosives are in the stern of the far ship."

The black mage nodded and retrieved his dagger. "Okay, let's do this." He turned around to face the ships and began to focus the power of his spells. "Give me a doublecast, Duane."

The red mage said a quick incantation and clapped his hands. Gilles was enveloped in crimson lightning that complimented the flames he was summoning nicely. The dark wizard began to chant.

"FIRE!" He wailed, and unleashed a twofold volley of flames. One fireball shrieked towards the bow of the nearest ship while the second spun towards the stern of the far ship. They flew like guided missiles, penetrating the warships just below the iron plating. The spells incinerated the hull easily, upon impact they burst into a towering wall of flames that started ravaging the ships- inside and out.

"Impressive!" Duane cried. "I've never been able to get Fire that hot or volatile!"

Gilles indulged in an invisible smile. "Likewise. I've never done a doublecast before. You'll have to teach me that spell sometime."

Duane smiled and shook his head. "Sorry, but no. I can't. Mostly because it's not a spell so much as a technique. Secrets of the trade, you understand?"

Gilles nodded. Despite almost getting a bullet in the face, seeing two mighty warships burn brightly while their doomed crew scrambled to put out the blaze put him in an exceptional humor. He suppressed a chuckle. "Now what?"

"We run like mad. To the warehouses!" The two mages took off sprinting towards the greater port district. A deafening concussion sounded as the first ship practically split in two. Her crew jumped ship, many of whom were themselves on fire. Just as she began to go down, a foamy white explosion blew the rear and of the far ship apart. The stern almost instantly disappeared while the rest of the flooded hull began to sink. Fast. Secondary explosions further splintered the wreckage and many of the waterlogged survivors. Black Beard Bikke was officially down to a single ship.

Duane and Gilles dashed along the waterfront towards a series of large warehouses. Out in the harbor, the two ships continued to explode.

"How much damned gunpowder was on those things?" Gilles asked exhaustedly, noticeably out of breath.

"Lots." Duane simply answered. The two men kept running, they had already started hearing shouts from pirates- survivors of the two ships as well as additional guards for the warehouse area. Fortunately, everyone was running towards the ocean, while the two mages were doing their level best to get away from it. They reached the nearest pair of warehouses and dashed down the narrow alley between them. They ran for a few more strides before they skidded to a halt, face to face with two pirates.

The two buccaneers didn't say anything, they simply brandished their scimitars and charged. Gilles didn't waste any time. He muttered something in an archaic language and blue streaks of lightning shot from his outstretched hands. The bolts struck the nearest pirate and sent him careening back. He had stopped yelling in mid-flight, his smoking corpse smashing a wooden box as it hit the ground. The second pirate came straight for Duane, who had his rapier out and was swinging it in broad arcs; the pirate hesitated for an instant, and Duane charged. The two men engaged, their swords throwing sparks as they crashed together. Gilles couldn't risk casting Thunder again, not with Duane so close to his enemy. He shifted his focus and began chanting again, this called for a Blizzard.

Duane took a swift step back and executed a blindingly fast flourish. The pirate had somehow managed to parry every blow, but it sent him tumbling off balance. The red mage dashed around the man and ran him clear through from the side. The pirate dropped his blade and went down, Duane then wasted no time in finishing him off. Gilles stopped focusing the Blizzard's power, but maintained the spell's burgeoning effect in case more targets appeared. They did; responding to the screams of their two dead comrades more guards ran around the corner. Gilles simply turned to face them and unleashed the Blizzard. Streams and beams of white wind filled the alleyway and blasted the pirates- there were four in total. The black mage had aimed for the ground directly in front of them, attempting to cause an area-of-effect that would take advantage of the alley's cramped quarters. The pirates yelled momentarily, but their screams were interrupted by cracking and shattering noises as their frozen corpses keeled over. When the absolute zero dust cleared, all that remained was what looked like the pieces of broken statues.

"Most of his men are out at sea?" Gilles scoffed.

"Hmph. Now you know why I don't like him- well, one of the many reasons. Zok is an incurable optimist."

Gilles had begun to cast a brief spell that summoned up a wall of flames that obstructed the warehouses-lighting them ablaze at the same time. "Okay, don't need to worry about any more from that direction. Let's get a move on."

The pair continued running down the alley, the firewall had served the unintentional dual purpose of destroying the buildings along with heading off any reinforcements. A deafening explosion sounded in the distance. "How much bloody gunpowder does one need?" Gilles wheezed.

Duane stopped and knelt down with his hands on his knees. He was in better shape than Gilles, but not by much. After briefly catching his breath he stood and readjusted his hat. "We need to find a decent vantage point from which to plain our next attack."

Gilles nodded. "The little cretin had better be grateful. Speaking of which- how are we supposed to find him in this mess?" Smoke had begun clouding the night sky, despite the illumination from the all the flames.

Duane swung his rapier side to side, testing its balance. "I wish I knew, he's _supposed_ to find us, remember?"

"Forget this!" Gilles growled. He cupped his hands over his dark void of a face and started shouting. "KELGA! KELGA VASQUEZ!"

Duane's eyes got wide- they almost glowed in the dark. "That's probably not the best plan!"

"I'm open to alternatives." The wizard continued shouting. Duane kept his sword drawn and took a defensive posture at Gilles' rear. The red mage started casting a spell that sent blue bolts of lightning traveling down the blade of his weapon. "Can you teach me that spell?" Gilles asked.

"White magic." Duane simply answered and strained to look into the darkness. Shadows had begun to move and head slowly in their direction. Gilles continued shouting.

"Shut up!" Duane cried. "We have company."

Three pirates dashed toward Duane from one alley, while another four came at Gilles from the other side. Both mages started chanting the same spell, Fire, but Duane finished the incantation first. A red-hot fireball went screaming towards one of his three, it struck him in the torso and he burst into flames. The pirate dropped his weapon and went down screaming, rolling around on the ground. The other two didn't even slow down, and Duane broke off to meet them.

Gilles took longer casting his spell, but for good reason. The fireball he produced was much larger and hotter. Once again, he went for an area-of-effect that turned the narrow alley into a sea of flames. The first pirate to be hit was incinerated almost instantly, exploding into a cloud of embers. Two more pirates were burned to death in the maelstrom while the last two broke off to flank the blazing obstruction.

Duane swung his crackling, enchanted blade side to side. Enthunder was a secret white magic spell that could enchant weapons with the power of lightning. While Duane himself was safe from the effect, chances were the hilts of his enemies' scimitars were not similarly insulated. They risked electrocution by merely parrying his strikes. Duane grinned and charged. The two buccaneers, bereft of shields, instinctively brought up their blades to defend. Duane blithely struck each blade, bluish-purple tendrils of lighting exploded from the impact and both pirates yelled in pain as they were thrown off balance. The red mage spun around and executed a broad horizontal slash. A bright blue streak of lightning rended the two combatants in half. Duane dispelled the effect and dashed back to meet Gilles.

Purple lightning crackled between Gilles' fingers as he prepared to unleash a spell the second he glimpsed a target. The only problem was, the two surviving pirates had apparently disappeared. The black mage strained to see anything amidst the smoke and flames. Duane came up alongside him. "Is that everyone?"

"No." The wizard grunted. Suddenly, a flurry of projectiles splintered the woodwork uncomfortably close to the two mages' heads. Gilles dropped to his knees while Duane rolled out of the way. "Auto crossbow!" The red mage shouted and rolled back to his feet, he then started casting Protect as fast as he could. Gilles crawled within range of the magical barrier just in time; another flurry of bolts impacted the shield and bounced off amidst a sea of sparks. A third volley crashed into the spell from behind, the mages were apparently flanked by the two gunmen.

"This is bad!" Duane grunted, visibly drained. Gilles knew he wouldn't be able to maintain the barrier indefinitely. One of the pirates dropped into sight and unleashed yet another rapid-fire volley of armor-piercing bolts. Gilles rolled outside the shield just long enough to unleash the Thunder he had been saving. He didn't so much as finish casting when he rolled back inside. While one bowman was down, the cobblestones were perforated where Gilles had been standing just a moment before. The two mages turned to get a glimpse of the second attacker, but to no avail; he was still out of sight.

"Stop breaking.. the barrier!" Duane wheezed. "You can cast from inside! It only stops... physical attacks!"

One more volley crashed into the shield. Gilles didn't believe it, but the white light began to splinter and crack like crystal. The shield was going down. Almost as suddenly as it appeared, the white light vanished, leaving the two casters completely exposed. Duane went to his knees, gasping for breath. Red mages were not known for having much stamina in long-term mana manipulation. The pirate now leapt down from the rooftops and pointed his weapon straight at Gilles.

"That'll do, spell slingers!" The pirate grinned as he thumbed a switch on his weapon. Auto crossbows were incredibly rare. Gilles had only seen one once before at a museum in Gaia. They were Lufenian in origin, and were rarely recovered in working condition. Dwarven machinists were the only ones known to be able to rework the weapons, and an operational auto crossbow fetched a hefty price on the black market. "Hands in the air!"

Gilles did as he was told, while Duane rose to his feet and did the same. "I'm spent!" The red mage whispered.

"I noticed." Gilles replied. "What now?"

"SHUT UP!" The pirate roared. "You two've been having a merry run of the place, ain't ye? Blowin' things up and killin' me mates; well, it ends here!"

"It sure does!" Someone yelled from the shadows.

"Who's there?" The pirate yelled. "Show yerself!"

Wood and metal clanked somewhere down the alley and the pirate turned to face the noise. Just as he did, two large knives sank into his back with a heavy 'thunk' sound. The raider screamed and discharged his weapon, but did so in a harmless direction. He pitched forward and went to his knees, a third knife swooped in from the darkness and administered the _coup de grace_.

Gilles and Duane said nothing, they merely waited for their savior to appear. While they didn't know for sure who it was, they both had the same suspicion. A young man in leather armor and a green bandana dropped down from the rooftops. He nodded at the mages and began to remove the throwing knives from the corpse on the ground.

Gilles sighed. "Kelga Vasquez, I presume?"

The rogue flashed an unexpectedly white smile. "In the flesh!" He looked around briefly, seemingly uncomfortable on the ground. "So... you called?"

_Finally!_ Gilles felt relief wash over him. "Yes, I did, but perhaps we should find someplace a bit more secure to talk?"

"Sure! You boys have done more tonight than I've been able to do since Bikke took over! Let me buy you a drink or something!" The thief turned and started jogging down the only alley that wasn't on fire. The two mages started after him.


	10. Chapter 10: Crystals, Great and Small

The three had walked for what seemed like hours towards the eastern most part of the city. It was a ramshackle ghetto of violence and death, but it was farthest away from Captain Bikke's sphere of influence. Kelga led the two mages towards the only building on the block that was well lit: a small tavern.

When they entered Gilles was nearly choked by smoke and burning incense. Rough-looking characters of all races, professions and genders drank and gambled. No one looked too friendly, but the two wizards didn't stand out here nearly as bad as they did in the other pub.

A pair of female elves stood and raised their glasses as Kelga entered the bar. One of them smiled and spoke up. "So, is it true that the Royal Navy hit the port?" The banter died down as everyone listened for Kelga's response. Gilles didn't necessarily like the unexpected fame this was promising.

"Yeah, the port was hit!" Kelga shouted, nimbly jumping on top of a table as if he were about to deliver a speech. "It wasn't the Navy, though! It was these two mages!"

All eyes in the room turned to Gilles and Duane. Gilles cringed in annoyance while Duane merely shrugged and removed his hat, bowing gracefully.

One by one every man, woman, elf and dwarf in the tavern stood and started applauding the spellcasters. Their cheers were incredibly loud, and some had even started banging weapons, tools and dinnerware together. Gilles felt like his head would explode, but Duane seemed to bathe in it.

"What are the heroes' names?" The other elven girl asked.

Kelga spun and gestured to the two strangers. "The black mage goes by the name of Gilles Arkham. He's a fully trained wizard from Hawkeye, far to the north. He trained under the legendary black wizard Homac Topapa, who is well known for his research into ancient Lufenian civilization and his unfortunately fruitless efforts to transcribe Meteor."

The crowd cheered again. While Gilles appreciated the adulation, it made him intensely uncomfortable. He had never studied magic to become a celebrity, or even a hero. Knowledge, power, and maybe a little wealth were what drove him. Kelga motioned for the crowd to quiet down again. They complied, but not very quickly.

"The red mage is a man of whom I've heard much, but have only had the pleasure to meet today. He is none other than Duane Sorel, the renegade noble who has attained a remarkable proficiency in both black and white magic. He is also an accomplished fencer and a seasoned adventurer."

Duane removed his hat again, smiled, and bowed gracefully- once again. Gilles wanted to kick him, but settled for merely rolling his eyes. Kelga let the crowd cheer Duane for a few more moments, and then hushed them again.

"Together these two mages, a wizard and a warlock, single-handedly destroyed Black Beard's frigates, the _Sahagin Queen_/ and the _Scimitar_. If the rumors of Bikke's blood-soaked skirmish with the Navy are to be believed, that puts him down to only the _Nirvana_ herself!"

The crowd cheered once again, this time louder than ever, but once again Kelga hushed them. "What's more, two armories were destroyed and numerous pirates were slain. Again, assuming the rumors are true, Black Beard's gang is now in the double digits!"

Kelga jumped off the table and stood between the two mages, raising their arms in the air. "Gods willing, with their help, we will be rid of those raping, pillaging, marauding butchers once and for all!"

_OH GODS NO_! Gilles wanted to throttle the little bastard, but instead exchanged a wide-eyed gaze with Duane, who for the first time since they arrived, did not appear to be enjoying himself.

The crowd became absolutely unglued. Bards began drumming, fluting and luting, but it could barely be heard over the uproarious applause. Kelga turned toward the two, and Gilles leaned toward him and whispered harshly. "We need to talk!"

"Sure!" Kelga replied. "Let's get us some drinks and leave the noise behind!"

Kelga motioned toward the dwarven barkeep, who nodded and produced a bottle of hard mulsum and three glasses. Kelga picked up the items and motioned for his companions to follow, they then proceeded upstairs to his private quarters.

Despite the tavern's seedy exterior, Kelga's apartment was quite well kept and opulent. The boy obviously lived in greater luxury than the old man let on. Gilles closed the door behind them, but Duane was the first to speak up. "What was that?"

"Yeah, just what the hell do you think you're doing?" Gilles seethed.

Kelga turned and gave the two a wide-eyed, innocent look. "What? You're after Bikke too, right? The fight is almost over, he's weaker now than he's ever been!"

"We're not interested in pirates, fool. We couldn't care less about that gang or this city! We needed to find you, and your contact Zok informed us that this was the only reliable way to do so!" Gilles' yellow eyes appeared brighter than ever, almost flaming.

"You sure went to a lot of trouble just to find me, what gives?"

Duane had seemed to regain his composure somewhat, and cleared his throat anxiously. "What my esteemed colleague is trying to say is that we don't work for free. This isn't some kind of charity. There's a certain this for that involved, you understand?"

The rogue grinned. "Ah, now you're speaking my language. I've amassed quite a stash since my war with Black Beard began. Name your price."

Gilles snorted. "The crystal. Hand it over."

All of the color seemed to drain out of Kelga's sunburned face. "I don't know of any crystals."

The black mage's finite patience was becoming exhausted. "You know, for a thief, you don't lie well. We know you have one of the four legendary elemental crystals. You know, the ones from Lukhan's Prophecy? The ones that are supposed to be able to manipulate the forces of nature and bring the world to either salvation or destruction?"

The thief merely swallowed. "It's mine."

"I understand that, but I've come a very long way looking for it, and Mr. Sorel has been assisting me tirelessly in my search since my arrival. We've gone through hell to find you, and that stone. We're not leaving Pravoka without it."

Kelga shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not possible. It's an extremely important artifact."

Duane coughed. "Oh, I assure you, we understand that. If the Prophecy is to be believed, it is the only means by which to save our dying world- and rid ourselves of the monsters which plague it."

"That's why I can't give it up! Look, I didn't steal it or buy it or even find it; it's MINE. It belonged to my father and his father before him, it was the sacred jewel of our clan for hundreds of years. Given to us by the king of Elfheim for our assassination of the dark elf king in those days. Do you know what that means?"

"So you are descended from ninja..." Duane mused. "If you're familiar with the Prophecy, I assume you mean that makes you one of the four Warriors of Light."

Kelga nodded. "I can't part with this crystal. The fate of the world may be at stake."

"Then come with us!" Gilles barked. "Zok said you were interested in knowledge. Well, I'll have you know that the only way you're going to learn about that stone is by coming with us. If you really believe that nonsense, at least have some respect for a fellow Light Warrior!"

"What?" The thief asked, confused, but his eyes went wide as Gilles produced the Wind Crystal.

"I have one too." The wizard explained. "Although as a heretic, I'm naturally somewhat skeptical of the Church's prophecies, this is perhaps the most important archeological discovery of our time; even if it isn't the key to saving the world."

Kelga didn't say anything for a long time, but he eventually cleared his throat. "Yours is faded."

"What? Of course. They're not supposed to be functional at this time."

Kelga shook his head. "Not mine, mine's active." He reached down his collar and pulled out a long, silver chain identical to Gilles' except for the stone set in the pendant. This crystal was red instead of green, but also unlike the Wind Crystal, it shimmered with brilliant crimson light.

"It's the Fire Crystal!" Duane whispered. "And he's right, it is lit!"

"Curious." Gilles was genuinely puzzled, why did the Fire Crystal retain its brilliance while the Wind Crystal had apparently lost all power? "Are you able to do anything with it?"

Kelga frowned. "I'm no magician, and the crystals are supposed to be pure elemental magic in a solid, condensed state- or at least that's what Zok's books said. So no, I haven't been able to do anything with it."

_He is too stupid to grasp magic, fool._ "Look." Gilles explained. "It's not a spell, and it's not intrinsic. It's an enchanted item, like a spell scroll in its pristine state- it's supposed to be able to be used by anyone, even without the proper training."

"You can't be certain that the crystals operate on the same principles as conventional magic." Duane reminded him.

Gilles sighed. "Here, can I at least see the thing?"

Kelga reluctantly removed the chain and handed it to the black mage.

The wizard grasped the crystal in his hand tightly, red light streamed through the fingers of his gloves. Gilles closed his eyes and appeared to lose consciousness while standing. "It's practically seething with the power of fire! How can you not feel it?"

"Maybe because, I'm not a mage?"

"Nonsense. A mindless worm could perform impressive pyromancy with this treasure. You need to get a better feel for the universe around you, kid." Gilles handed the crystal back to Kelga.

"Maybe you could show me." The thief muttered plaintively.

"Come with us!" Duane pleaded. "If you're unwilling to part with the Fire Crystal, my hopes of becoming a Light Warrior are for naught. At least accompany us on our journey to understand the power you two possess!"

Kelga stared at the shimmering jewel in his hand. "Come with you? Where?"

Gilles shrugged. "Cornelia, I guess. There's obviously something to the Prophecy, and if that's the case we might as well go to the prophet himself."

"Sage Lukhan resides at the Cornelia City Temple of Light." Duane explained.

Kelga looked into the black mage's burning amber eyes. "...Okay, I'll come with you. This is important, and fascinating I might add. But I have a favor to ask."

"You're in our debt brigand, remember?" Gilles growled.

Kelga nodded. "I know, but it's important. I must avenge my family's honor, and I must restore peace and order to Pravoka. Bikke must die."

The black mage sighed. "Now? Not now..."

The thief did his best to look reassuring. "Oh no, of course not. You're right, this business with the Prophecy is far more important, I'm just asking..."

"Asking what?"

"If we become Light Warriors, and are ever near here again, can we finish the job? Can we free Pravoka?"

"We'll see." The wizard answered curtly. "So, are you coming with us?"

"Yes." The thief resumed staring at the glowing Fire Crystal. "Yes I am."

* * *

A tall, slender figure in a flowing robe and cowl approached the main gate of Captain Bikke's home, formally the Vasquez family's mansion. Although it walked briskly, almost marched, its footfalls didn't make a sound. The pirate guarding the gate was nodding off, and almost didn't notice the stranger approaching. He jerked as the hooded man cleared his throat. The pirate stood up straight and put his hand on the hilt of his blade. 

"Who're you? What ye be doin' here?"

The tall man didn't answer immediately. After an awkward silence an unsettling voice responded. "I am a business associate, I have previously hired the captain's services and have come to collect what I've paid for. Is the captain in?"

"I hear he's a wee bit 'indisposed' right now, you might try commin' back tomorrow."

The stranger crossed his arms and shook his head. "No. I will claim my prize tonight."

"Hold here." The pirate grunted and opened the gate. Even with his face-obscuring hood, the stranger was visibly annoyed. The outlaw trudged up to the mansion's front door and spoke with another guard. After what seemed like forever, the second pirate went inside while the first returned to the main gate. "We'll see if the cap'n's admitting callers."

"It is very uncouth for a lowly pirate to make royalty wait outside."

The pirate gave the figure a cockeyed glare. "Huh. Ye're royalty?"

The cloaked man didn't answer. When the second pirate finally returned the gatehouse guard turned to exchange a hushed whisper with him. The first pirate turned back around and cleared his throat.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry 'Yer Highness' but the cap'n's not takin' callers right now. Come back tomorrow."

"Unacceptable." The figure hissed and raised both arms. Whispers issued from the hood unlike any the pirates had heard. Before they could draw their weapons the air around them distorted and billowed with a translucent gas. The two marauders collapsed to the ground like rag dolls, the figure merely side-stepped them and proceeded towards the front door.

Inside, Bikke lay face down at a table; a half-emptied bottle of hard liquor sat next to him. The tall man entered the room and removed his hood, revealing the long ears and sharp features of an elf- the dark blue skin and exotic tattoos suggested a particular ethnicity of elf.

"Captain? Captain!"

Bikke jerked awake and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What the? YOU! Heh, just who I wanted to see. I want to renegotiate our price!"

Without invitation, the dark elf pulled up a chair and sat across from the old pirate. "And why, pray tell, should I be penalized for your ineptitude? Did you even recover the Eye?"

"Yeah I got it, but it wasn't easy! That witch's hole was booby trapped, and SOMEONE tipped off the Royal Navy that I would be in the area. I lost my entire godsdamned fleet, Astos!"

The dark elf waved his hand dismissively. "I warned you of the dangers of attempting to ambush one who can see the future. Overwhelming force was the only way you would be able to retrieve it. I can't be held responsible if you ignore my advice, Captain. Likewise, you're a pirate. The navies of all three nations are a constant threat to your operations. Again, I ask why any of this is my fault."

Bikke jerked to his feet and grabbed the bottle off the table. With one swift swing he shattered it and held the broken end right up to the elf's face. Astos didn't so much as flinch.

"I'm ruined, Astos! Ruined! I only have the _Nirvana_/ left, an' some of the locals hit my portside assets while I was gone! I can't even make a good guess as to how many o' my mates I lost, nor can I guess how much it'll cost to replace everything. And not everything can be replaced! It's ALL yer fault you lichen-licking, bigeyes barnacle!"

Astos sighed. "You're inebriated, captain. I suggest you sit down so we can discuss this like adults. I can kill you with but a thought, remember?"

Bikke tossed the broken bottle in the fireplace and sat down again. "I want twice the arranged price!"

The dark elf flashed a serrated smile. "Fifty million? I could hire a band of mercenaries to sack this chateau and take it from you for a tenth of that. And again, what's stopping me from killing you and taking it myself?"

"You must really take me for a fool. It's not on me, an' only I know where it is! You can't read the future yet! You kill me, an' you kill yer chances of ever seein' outta that Eye!" The pirate returned a very plaque-tarnished grin of his own.

Astos sighed. "Thirty million."

"Forty."

"Thirty-five."

"Forty!"

"_Thirty-five._" Astos' tone indicated that his patience for haggling was exhausted. Even in his drunken stupor, Bikke took the hint. He fished in his pocket briefly, and tossed out a tiny clear orb. Astos hissed, but said nothing. Bikke figured he above all people would appreciate such a bluff.

The dark elf's clawed hands quickly grasped the orb. Like a greedy little child he turned away from the pirate and held the sphere up to his face, gazing at it lustfully. "It's beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!"

"I'm glad someone's happy!" Bikke snorted. "I have just enough to rebuild. Ye've set me operations back by a decade, I never should have accepted yer offer. I rue the day I met you, 'Highness'."

"So who attacked you? And who notified the Navy of your whereabouts?"

Bikke shrugged. "Yer the one who can see the future now, you tell me."

Astos gasped and smiled. He had almost forgot. Without hesitation he quickly jabbed into his face and plucked his right eye out. The optic nerve was still attached, he jerked it and snapped it off. It was all Bikke could do to keep from retching while the dark elf popped his still twitching eyeball into his mouth and chewed. He looked at the the crystal with his one remaining eye while blood ran down his face; as if he was unsure which end was which. He shrugged and inserted it into his empty eye socket.

He blinked and rubbed his new fake eye. He gazed around the room briefly and smiled. "Incredible! Absolutely amazing!"

"What?" Bikke demanded.

"I can see everything! Everything at once! It functions much like a normal eye, but I can examine things in greater detail should I so wish. It isn't difficult to control, it's subconscious even. What's more, I can see the future, the past. Everything. I can see everything!" He cackled with glee.

"So who tipped off the king? Who hit the port while I was gone?"

"Yes, of course." Astos murmured and stared off into the distance. "A human. One Otis Bartz."

Bikke produced a long knife and stabbed it into the table. "That slimy bastard! Rot in hell you halfwit! He died in the ambush he made happen!"

Astos shook his head. "No, he's alive. Living in Cornelia right now, in rather opulent luxury I might add."

Bikke stood and grabbed his chair, he roared in rage and broke it against the wall. "DAMN YOU! I'LL KILL YOU OTIS! I SWEAR I'LL KILL YOU!" His white-hot rage subsided and he turned back to the seer. "Who hit Pravoka? Word on the street is Vasquez hired a couple o' mages."

"The rumors are correct. He who is descended from the slayers of my ancestors is responsible for the destruction of your landlocked assets. Kelga Vasquez, you're familiar with him, yes? His family and mine go way back." Astos stroked his chin and appeared lost in thought. "The two mages on the other hand... Most interesting."

"What? What's interestin'?"

Astos shook his head. "Nothing that greatly concerns you, although I should say that Vasquez and his new friends are not to be underestimated. No, these humans are special somehow. But that's not even the half of it. Things are going to be getting complicated in Cornelia soon. You gave the Royals more of a run for their money than I'd previously imagined... If you're looking for work, I have another job for you."

Bikke shook his head. "Forget it."

"But this one's on my land."

"Then get one of yer own to do it! I got a backstabber to backstab, and Vasquez'll be back. I wanna have a warm Provokan welcome ready for him when he returns."

"How do you know he'll be back?"

"Am I wrong?"

Astos smiled. "No, I'm just curious."

"He hates me more than anything. My fleet is- WAS, built on the remnants of his family's shipping consortium. His ma and pa hanged 'cause o' me. He's been a thorn in me side ever since."

The dark elf smiled and nodded. "I see. Literally."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Just testing my new toy. So, you're unavailable for the time being?"

"I'll never work for you again!" Bikke growled. "After you pay me, we're through!"

Astos stood and bowed. "Of course." He reached into his cloak and produced a sheet of parchment and handed it to Bikke. Scrawled all over the page were cryptic designs similar to the tattoos on Astos' face. "The Elven merchant marine ship _Dragonwillow_ is moored at Pier Eight. It's crew may appear to be Eastern Elves, but they're not. They're with me. This is a letter of authorization to have the cargo- your payment- offloaded. I will inform the captain that the price has been renegotiated."

The dark elf put his hood back up. "I wish you would reconsider, Captain. I can help you rebuild your fleet. Thirty-five million is a start, but it's only a start, and there's plenty more where that came from. The Crystal Eye has shown you to be far more capable than I previously thought."

Bikke scoffed. "I'm flattered, but nay. In my current fix I probably couldn't even pull off this next job."

Astos sighed. "Very well, I'll just have to find someone more capable for this next little errand." He turned to leave the room while Bikke shuffled around for a fresh, unbroken bottle.

"Good luck with your li'l coup!" The pirate called after him.

"Luck?' Astos turned and bared his fangs in the dark elven approximation of a smile. He pulled his hood back again and tapped his fake eye. "I won't need it." He hissed.


	11. Chapter 11: Cornelia's General

Metal armor clanked and creaked on the polished stone floors of the Cornelian Royal Palace. General Garland strode down the long hallway toward the the king's war room. He sighed to himself. _Steel yourself! You're a knight. You can face him, you're the one who slew the red dragon of Lariat after all._

Yes, that incident was legendary, almost mythical. Dragons were extremely rare on the southern continent, at least in the west. The feral bull red dragon that made its nest on the peak of Mt. Lariat probably hailed from the Cardian Isles to the north. It had made a diet of the equine monsters that used to be common in the area. Once the horse population started do dwindle, it went after domesticated livestock... and their owners.

The dragon's reign of terror lasted for a full three months. Whole villages were destroyed, and Cornelia was on the brink of an agricultural disaster. The dragon had to be destroyed, but it was too fast in flight for cannons and trebuchets, and arrows and bolts did not penetrate its hide. If it was to be defeated, it had to be defeated on the ground; but engaging the fire-breathing monstrosity on foot was surely suicidal.

The original plan was to send the kingdom's best swordsman to slay the beast, with the help of the white and black archmages. The late General Perseus, Garland's predecessor, was chosen for the task. Cardinal Vias and the late Lord Rehnquist would be his support. Of the three, only Vias survived. Although he had successfully cast a hasty Exit spell, he suffered grievous injuries that even his magic couldn't heal. He retired to lead the Church shortly after, and Colonel Garland was swiftly promoted.

As the new Field Marshal of the Cornelian military, Garland proposed a new strategy; one that wouldn't sacrifice any more master wizards. He proposed to go it alone. At first, the king refused and ordered an all out offensive on Lariat with artillery. A fortnight and several hundred casualties later, the beast still preyed on Cornelians. Now open to suggestions, the king agreed to let Garland take the Light Crystal, the most precious treasure in all of Cornelia, and face the dragon alone. The crystal was a secret that only the kingdom's elite were even aware of. It was supposed to be a myth, a legendary fifth crystal that embodied the power of the transcendental element light, and its power was tremendous.

Garland marched into Mt. Lariat alone, armed only with his steel longsword and the Light Crystal. The battle that ensued would be sung by bards across the land. Although the story told to the public depicts Garland slaying the dragon through sheer skill, in reality he owed his victory and his life to the crystal. Although he had little magical training, General Garland was able to wield the crystal's power to protect himself from the red dragon's flame. Immune to the searing heat, he then used its power to blind the beast while he ran it through with his enchanted blade.

He returned to Cornelia a hero. Only twenty-four years old, he was the youngest general in the history of the nation. Sages called for him to be Lady Sarah's suitor once she came of age; marrying the princess would effectively make him next in line for the throne.

His attention snapped back to the present as he reached the large double doors of the king's war room. Garland swallowed. _Keep your cool. Don't over-react. It wasn't all your fault, he will accept some of the responsibility. You're a hero, he needs you, Cornelia needs you. Whatever he does to you, he'll do in private._

Garland had suspected the king would be angered by the news of the debacle at Prontera, but also hoped that he would cool off a bit in the time that would elapse between Faust's arrival and his own. The knight on guard nodded to the general and opened the door. Garland clanked inside.

It was a long, hard march through Lariat to Cornelia. Although they had encountered no fiends, the terrain and the weather made the trek miserable. The men suffered from low-morale. Had it not been for the Church's healers, annoying as they were, it would have been a lot worse. He was thankful for that much. He had hoped he would be able to rest, bathe and have his armor cleaned before he reported to the king. He felt rather self-conscious as he glimpsed his reflection on the shimmering floor. He looked- and felt- like he'd been fired out of a cannon.

The long, mahogany table dominated the room. It was rectangular, with a more subdued version of the throne at the head. The remaining seats were reserved for the members of the elder council, but aside from Garland there were only four in the room: The king, the queen, the chancellor, and Admiral Faust.

The king nodded curtly to Garland as he took a knee. "Your Majesty." He said weakly.

The king turned to his bride, at least twenty years his junior- the emerald haired Jayne; who was the second most beautiful creature in all of Cornelia, next to her daughter. "Dear, would you excuse us please?"

"Of course." Jayne murmured and rose, nodding to Garland as she briskly left the room. The heavy double doors closed behind her.

The king coughed and cleared his throat. "General. Have a seat."

Garland took the chair the queen had left, across from Chancellor Rehnquist and Admiral Faust. Rehnquist was the younger brother of the black archmage who had died the previous year, just before Garland's promotion. He was arguably the second most powerful man in all of Cornelia, next to the king. While Garland technically had more authority, Rehnquist had more raw power because he could easily circumvent him. He did this often.

Faust, on the other hand, was senile. The old admiral was the Field Marshal until he abdicated the title to Perseus. Faust was pressing one hundred and twenty years in age, it was all he could do to lead the Navy and captain the _Queen Jayne_. Garland respected him as a fellow officer and a veteran of the Elven-Dwarven War, but he was a crusty old figurehead now. Commodore Roethke, who was oddly absent from this meeting, truly held the Navy together.

The king spoke up. "Admiral Faust tells me that things did not go well in the Northern Strait, not well at all." The king gestured to Chancellor Rehnquist, who read from the parchment in front of him.

"Two ships lost, one damaged beyond salvage. Two hundred and thirty sailors killed- among them the late Admiral Roethke, an additional eighty-seven permanently wounded." Rehnquist further unrolled the scroll. "Army casualties were staggeringly high. Four hundred and seventeen dead, fifty-nine permanently wounded. The entire township of Prontera decimated, its entire population displaced… Twenty-six cannons destroyed, and a kilogram of nitro powder wasted." Rehnquist rolled up the scroll and smiled at Garland.

"And for what?" The kind demanded. Garland was about to speak up in his defense, but Rehnquist produced another parchment and began reading. "Two pirate frigates destroyed, three outlaw cutters sank. An estimated fifteen hundred pirates killed. No prisoners. The _Nirvana_ and her crew, including Captain Bikke himself escaped and are still at large."

The king turned back to Garland. "I do not find these numbers acceptable. Do you?"

"No, Your Highness." Garland stared blankly into space, doing his best to avoid eye contact with anyone.

The king continued. "Admiral Faust's log demonstrates that he had misgivings about your 'plan', that the Bikkeneers were about to surrender, or commit suicide against his blockade. Ordering the second flotilla deeper into the strait put them at an unnecessary risk, did it not?"

"Prontera's garrison was being bombarded, and was failing to sufficiently retaliate. Additional support was necessary for the sake of the port."

The king snorted. "So you decided to blow the port up, did you?"

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, there wasn't a port left when I detonated the powder."

The king nodded. "No, but there were two Royal Navy ships in the harbor. One of which you managed to hit directly. It was the same class as the _Nirvana_ so I suppose the misidentification is understandable, but I wonder if the late Admiral Roethke would be very understanding of the little blunder that ended his very distinguished career."

_I__ killed him! I blew up the Commodore's ship!_ Garland could have sworn his heart was in his throat at that moment.

The king resumed his relentless yet venomously subtle tirade. "My favorite part of this whole mess, General, would have to be the fact that Black Beard escaped. This debacle was a crushing defeat, and your renegade heroics made it so!"

Garland's ears were red. "Your Excellency, while it is true that the _Nirvana_ escaped the strait, she was hit, and we cannot know for certain if Bikke survived. Even if he did, he is vastly weaker than he was a scant few days ago. He has lost practically all of his fleet and the vast majority of his men, his dominance over piracy in the Aldean is at an end."

"And yet buccaneers still plunder the high seas." Faust croaked.

The king nodded. "He's right, why should the pirates' losses console me when ours were so much worse? WE are vastly weaker than we were a scant few days ago. The boundaries of the Cornelian territorial waters have receded, as has our control over the regions northeast of Lariat. We're marooned on this peninsula now, and thank the gods we're currently at peace with Duergar and Elfheim! We'd be doomed otherwise!"

Rehnquist spoke up again. "General, speaking of our neighbors, what are the chances of them taking advantage of our current plight?" Garland knew the question was meant to put him in his place, but the soldier was becoming quite adept at these politicians' games.

"Slim to none." Garland retorted. "Duergar and Elfheim are and have been worse off than us for years now. Elfheim is still embroiled in a bloody guerilla war with the dark elves, one without any foreseeable end, and they still have no king. Last I'd heard their prince is still comatose and the elven Elder Council is arguing over re-opening Hellfire Chasm to forge a knew royal family."

Garland stood up and turned toward the nearest window, looking out on Cornelia City. "Duergar is worse off. Their mythril deposits have been exhausted, and they are in the midst of an ecological and agricultural disaster. The earth rot has all but killed Melmond, the literal breadbasket of that nation, and is even now spreading east." He turned to face the king. "We maintain military and economic dominance in the Aldean. By all rights WE should be taking advantage of THEIR plight!"

Rehnquist rolled his eyes. "Not this imperialist drivel again!"

Garland ignored the chancellor and looked straight at the king. "My lord, Bikke practically owns Pravoka. It's officially within our borders, he's weaker now than ever before!" We could retake the city easily! It's not aggression if we're merely reclaiming what is rightfully ours!"

The king didn't say anything, but Rehnquist scoffed. "This coming from the brilliant tactician who claimed that the whole world was 'rightfully ours' because the ancient Lufenians were human! Your Majesty, may I-"

The king raised a hand to silence his chief advisor. "That's enough. General, you know you're indispensable. Let's not make me regret making you a hero. Let's not make me reconsider your indispensable nature. Your bungling will get you killed, it's that simple. Either you will die in battle or you'll hang for high treason. You aren't invincible. You don't wear the Light Crystal around your neck anymore, and never will again if I have any say over it."

Garland hung his head. Was his career over? Would he become another Faust and merely remain the figurehead while a few colonels ran the Army? What about his bid for the throne? Garland's mouth was sour with bile, and tears welled up in his eyes. He clenched his mailed fists tightly. Somehow, he had never imagined knighthood to be like this.

"You are going to forget your fantasies of conquest, do I make myself clear? You are going to devote all of your energies toward rebuilding this nation and its military. You are going to stop playing the role of the dragon-slaying knight and start being an officer! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty." Garland's answer was barely a whisper.

* * *

Garland slammed the door behind him. At first, he wanted to smash and break things, but he calmed himself. _That could have been worse. A lot worse._ He knew that it was only because of his popularity and special status that he retained his rank. As the world became an increasingly evil place, the people needed heroes to keep hope alive. While Lukhan's prophecy was intended to serve the same purpose, not everyone believed that the Warriors of Light would save the world- after all, it was difficult to believe that the world could be saved. 

The knight drew his curtains back and looked out on Cornelia City. It was the largest and most beautiful city in the world, surpassed only by what the ancient Sky People must have built and lost ages ago. Under the full moon he could see smoke stacks, water wheels and rooftops that seemed to stretch out forever. Only the towering, mist shrouded walls in the distance even hinted to the fact that the city had boundaries. He opened his window and drew in the fresh night air. This was the greatest city in the world, the fountainhead of humanity, the city of dreams.

Garland began unhinging and removing his plate mail armor. It was scratched, dented and filthy, but he would clean and repair it in the morning. Right now he needed a bath and a shave more than anything, and a good night's sleep in an actual bed. Tomorrow he would have a full agenda. Faust was seeing to the reorganization of the Navy after Roethke's death; such political wrangling was likely too much for the old man, but Garland was grateful for one less thing he had to worry about. Rebuilding the Army would be his task. Commissioning the building of new cannons, enlisting and training new recruits and ordering more gunpowder from the alchemists' guild were among the first orders of business. Unfortunately, the Army wouldn't have the luxury to lay low while its wounds healed. The goblins were out in force, and while the capitol itself was in no danger, expeditionary forces were necessary to protect the outlying towns and villages.

Goblins. While individually they were among the weakest of fiends, what they lacked in strength they made up for in sheer numbers- numbers that were apparently without end. Where did they come from? No one knew, but what was certain was that the only thing keeping them from overrunning Cornelia was their lack of unity. For all their ubiquitous nature, the goblin nation was a heterogeneous mixture of tiny, independent and nomadic tribes. They raided caravans frequently, and sacked villages that lacked proper defenses. The beastmen were a threat to all nations, but Garland was glad that goblins were the worst Cornelia had to offer, he didn't want to deal with the rampant ogres that both Duergar and Elfheim were subject to.

Yes, the world was in a very bad way. The number of fiends had increased exponentially over the last few years, and no one knew where they came from. Monsters had run rampant for Garland's entire life, and the entire lives of every mortal human he knew; but archeologically speaking, they were a relatively recent phenomenon. Four hundred years ago there were no goblins in Cornelia, ogres in Elfheim, or undead in Duergar. Monsters weren't the only problem either, the oceans of the northern most reaches of the world were ravaged with nearly constant hurricanes and tidal waves. On the western most edge of this very continent, deep inside Duergar, the earth rot consumed everything in its path. It was perhaps one of the greatest mysteries in the world, what was once the most fertile and verdant land in the world was becoming enveloped in a cancerous miasma. It started with a total absence of non-monster animal life, and then the plants died. The drier regions became barren wasteland, while the former swamps and forests became toxic bogs of fungus and mold. Melmond, the largest city on that part of the continent, was the agricultural hub of all of Duergar- which only a few years ago was the world's largest exporter of foodstuffs on the Aldean. The earth rot wreaked havoc on Duergar's economy, and made food a scarce commodity within its own borders. Cornelia and Elfheim were agriculturally independent enough to sustain themselves, but it was clear that the earth rot was spreading east. It was only a matter of time before the humans and elves met the same fate as the dwarves.

Garland changed into a fresh, clean robe and began to draw his bath water. It was great to be out of his armor, but he felt a little vulnerable. His feet were extremely sore from the long march, so he sat on the edge of his bed and began to apply salve to the areas where the chaffing was the worst. Plate mail was heavy, but you got used to it; Garland did, and was now feeling a little odd being able to move so freely and unencumbered. It had been several days since he'd been out of his armor. He gingerly sniffed the leather liners and winced, he removed them and tossed them in the basket for the next day's laundry. After thinking about that a moment, he tossed some bath salts in the steaming water. He walked up to his mirror and stared at it for a long moment. His face was pitch black and smeared with soot- and his hair was a tangled mess. He certainly didn't look like the greatest knight in the kingdom, but he looked exactly like he felt at that moment- like the worst knight in the world.

Could he really be king? The current king was old, but not incredibly so. Many in his administration, including Chancellor Rehnquist, were older than he. While many pundits criticized him for taking such a young wife, Jayne was hardly immature. Still, the king's health did not seem to be in decline, and there was plenty of time for him to have a son- if that were possible. The Cornelian monarchy was traditionally patriarchal, and this was a serious problem for the current king. After a twenty-six year reign he had only two daughters, one seventeen and the other eight. If the king died without having a son, Sarah would become queen- and her suitor, the next king, would have to come from outside the royal family. This was not unheard of, but it was rare and rather complicated. Still, the king seemed to be in great health for his age. If it was indeed within him to conceive a son, he would have plenty of time to do so. As it was, Garland seemed like the most likely candidate for succession of the throne. He had the nobility, the knighthood and the stature. Furthermore, he was younger than Anton Sorel, his only real competition. Not only was he closer to the princess' age, he was far more popular with the people than the reclusive and pompous count.

He was just about to disrobe when someone knocked on his door. Who could that possibly be at this hour? He turned and walked to the door to answer it, but briefly stopped to wipe his face on a towel. The knock sounded again, he lifted the latch and opened the door- and almost had a heart attack.

"Oh, Siegfried!" Princess Sarah looked astonished and a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"

Garland smiled. "Of course not milady, you merely caught me in a state of undress. Please, come in. What can I do for you?"

The green-haired girl saw that the bath tub was full. "I can come back if this is a bad time."

Garland shut the door. "No, this is going to be a fairly busy week for me. This is probably the only time. What do you need, Princess?"

Sarah smiled nervously. "How many times do I have to tell you, call me 'Sarah'." Her smile gave way to one of troubled concern. "I… just wanted to see if you're all right."

Garland frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I heard about Commodore- Admiral Roethke. Don't worry, it's not public information- but I was privy to it nonetheless. I also heard tell of the numerous other bad things that happened in the strait. You must be devastated."

The knight's knees felt weak and wobbly. "I'm… doing better than the dead, the permanently wounded and their loved ones." He looked out the window and wished she wouldn't see him like this. "I'm sorry." He murmured.

"Sorry for what?"

"I'm a failure. A failure as a knight." His eyes were beginning to glaze over again. His mind screamed for him to shut up, but something told him he could have confidence in Sarah. "The only reason I'm not hanging from a gallows right now is because your father needs me. As much of an incompetent officer I am, I'm still Wyrmkiller Garland and as such he needs to keep me on public display."

"Oh, Siegfried!" Sarah walked in front of the window to look in his eyes. He turned to deny her the opportunity. "You know that isn't true! My father loves you. He may be angry with you right now, but he knows it was an accident. He trusts you more than he trusts the chancellor. You know that right? There's a reason he made you a general."

"Yes, there is. I'm a better swordsman than Perseus was."

"That's not it! You're brave, you're loyal and you would do anything for him. He knows this. Even if he doesn't agree with everything you say and do, he can at least appreciate the spirit in which it's done."

Her words were reassuring, but Garland wasn't sure he could believe them. While he didn't doubt Sarah's sincerity, he did doubt the strength of her grasp on reality. In the dimly lit room, the Light Crystal she wore around her neck radiated brightly. He owed his life and rank to that shimmering artifact, as it granted him the invulnerability necessary to defeat the dragon that made him a hero. How he wanted to wear that crystal again, but the king's words from earlier that day made that seem like a very distant and unattainable fantasy. "I wish I could believe you."

Unexpectedly, she moved close to him and held his hands. "Believe it. The reason he's so hard on you is that he wants what's best for you. You're like a son to him, Siegfried. The son he never had." She looked a little sad. "I suppose in that respect you're something to him I could never be."

"I couldn't possibly be his ideal successor."

"Why not?"

Garland didn't answer.

Sarah smiled. "Even if that was true- which it isn't- it wouldn't matter much, would it? If sickness takes him- gods forbid- before he has a son, I will become queen regardless. The choice is ultimately mine- I only need my mother's blessing." Her smile became a little devious. Garland's face got warm. "And let me tell you right now, Anton is a good man and all, but I can't stand him. I'd sooner marry the goblin king."

The knight's eyes got wide. "You- you mean that?"

Sarah laughed. "Of course!" She looked deep into his eyes. "But believe me, it won't come to that. My father loves you, my mother loves you, my sister loves you." She leaned close and kissed him gently. "I love you."

"Milady I-"

"You need your rest, Siegfried." She smiled and opened the door. "See you soon."

Garland stood there in slack-jawed shock as the door closed behind her. She was always so cordial to him, the only person who regularly called him by his first name. He never thought anything of it before. _She loves me?_ A hundred different emotions began swimming through his troubled mind all at once. He really didn't believe her in regards to her father, but he couldn't doubt the sincerity in that kiss. He frowned and made a fist. A grim look of determination furrowed his brow. _I will atone for my failures. I will prove to His Majesty that I can succeed him. From now on, I will be the greatest knight, officer, and prospective in-law he could possibly imagine!_

But all that would begin tomorrow. Right now, Garland really needed to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12: Monsters

Captain Bikke paced back and forth along the docks of Pier Eight. Astos had made good on his promise, thirty-five million gil worth of hard credits, gold, precious gems and assorted treasures had been offloaded from the _Dragonwillow_. The dark elves masquerading as proper elves were creepy as hell, but they got the job done. The next order of business was, very obviously, rebuilding his fleet. Pravoka had some of the best shipwrights in the world, and although they weren't cheap, they were fast. The dry docks were already teeming with workers who crawled like ants about the scaffolding. Two large, armed cargo haulers were being built. Although he would never admit to it, it was almost refreshing to have everything simple like this again. The bars were crawling with eager young scalawags ready to make a killing at sea- literally and figuratively. Although green as grass, it would be at least a few years until they got wise and started having plans of their own. Bikke would be short of experienced help, but he was ready to exchange mutineers for over-zealous youngsters for once. Especially after what happened with Otis.

Yes, it was time to tie up that particular loose end and Bikke had just the right guy for the job. "Take over." He barked to his first mate and strode up the docks towards the pubs.

The navies of Cornelia and Elfheim, and their merchant marine fleets all seemed to have the same thing in mind- size. Apparently, the bigger you could build a ship and the more metal you could slap on her without her sinking, the better. This attitude spawned fire-breathing monstrosities like the _Queen Jayne_. Bikke suppressed a shudder. That thing was virtually unstoppable, but at least she was slow and unfit for the open sea.

The key to any successful pirate operation was speed. Outlaw navies had no hope of ever out-gunning the authorities. The _Nirvana_ was simply the fastest ship in existence, and her cannons had exceptionally long range for their incredible firepower. While fairly susceptible to damage, she was perfect for running blockades and harassing bigger ships while staying at a safe distance. In short, she was the perfect marauder's frigate. Faster than anything else out there, she could escape from anything, and nothing could escape from her. Subduing a Cornelian ship of the line or an Elven pleasure yacht had become second nature to the old pirate since he acquired the ship. The only problem was, she was far too small to haul all of the loot those big ships held. That's where these two new haulers would come in handy. The _Nirvana_ needed support to work, while the big haulers would need a ship mean enough to actually perform the piracy.

One of Bikke's bodyguards, armed with an auto crossbow, leaned against a barrel. He saw his captain approach and stood. "Where ya headed, boss?"

The old pirate stopped briefly. "Where does Vargas usually hang out these days?"

The subordinate's eyes got wide. "Vargas? As in Maduin Vargas? Whaddaya want with 'im?"

"We were sold out at Prontera. Somebody sold us out!"

"He's a pair o' hired fists, Cap'n. Not a detective."

Bikke grunted. "I know who did it! I know his rough whereabouts, too! All I want him to do is rub the slime ball out."

The bodyguard flashed a grin that lacked several teeth. "Heh, he'll get the job done all right. Ain't gonna be cheap though, ya know that?" His eyes narrowed. "Who did it, Boss? Who sold us out?"

Black Beard turned to his body guard and snarled. "Otis."

"Otis? He went in the drink! No one on the _Pravoka_ made it!"

"Seems as though HE did. Where can I find the little punk?"

"Who?"

"You cur! VARGAS, that's who! Ye be as dense as a dwarf's backside!"

"Ah, right." The pirate ran a finger through his scraggly hair. "Usually loiters about the Seafoam this time o' day. Want some backup?"

"Yeah, but keep yer distance. He doesn't particularly abide our kind."

Bikke strode down the streets of Pravoka in broad daylight. Virtually any other man would have been accosted by pickpockets and numerous other unsavory types, but when they saw the unmistakable three-point hat and green tunic, they gave the pirate king a wide berth. It had been a while since Bikke raided a local establishment. He didn't particularly like doing so, whatever was good for Pravoka was ultimately good for him, so he had a vested interest in seeing her thrive. However, sometimes the locals got uppity and had to be taught a lesson. After Vasquez's costly little tantrum the other night, the locals probably were overdue for a reminder of who owned this town. Bikke made a mental note to get on that after he hired Vargas to take out Otis.

The Seafoam Pub and Hostelry was one of the nicer places in Pravoka, and a regular hangout for wealthy merchants and power brokers. Vargas was a top-class fighter, so it only made sense for him to get drunk where the rich and famous got drunk too. Hits weren't usually his style, but Bikke knew that he would take them for the right price. If memory served, his only rule was 'no children'. Old Otis was no child, that much was certain. No, Vargas usually served as a bodyguard or bouncer, but Bikke had a feeling he could offer sufficient compensation for such an odd job.

"Hold here." He told his bodyguard and went inside. The Seafoam was a fairly ordinary pub, just cleaner and with a more sophisticated clientele than usual. A roughian like Bikke looked fairly out of place here, but no one dared say anything. Everyone knew who he was. He strode up to the bar and leaned forward.

"Maduin Vargas 'ere?" He grunted.

The barkeep nodded gravely. "Y- yes, sir." He swallowed. "Over there in the far corner." He gestured to where another out-of-place looking roughian sat, his back turned to everyone. The pirate stood and slowly approached the man. He wore very unconventional clothing, his trousers and robe were those of a Ryukahn monk. The sleeves were ripped off and the robe hung open, and a belt, a black belt, skirted his waist. This was the most obvious sign of all that the man was not to be trifled with.

When sitting alone in a bar, especially in a rough town like Pravoka, it was considered unwise to have your back turned to everyone. The fact that Maduin seemed to ignore everyone in the place demonstrated an amazing self-confidence. Bikke knew from experience that anyone who tried to get the jump on Vargas here was the fool, and was as good as dead. You can't sneak up on a fully trained Ryukahn black belt.

Bikke stopped at a respectful distance. "Lookin' fer work, Mr. Vargas?"

The ex-monk didn't turn around. "Yes Captain, as a matter of fact I am. Have a seat, let's hear your offer."

"Much obliged." Bikke rounded the table and pulled out the opposite chair. Maduin wasn't drinking anything, he was just sitting there. His eyes closed. The old pirate sat down, removed his hat and rubbed the bald spot on the top of his head. "There's someone I need you to take out."

"No government officials, I hope. I just paid off the price on my head."

Bikke chuckled. "Heh, no, not gov't. Far from it. An old 'buddy' o' mine turned out to be a dirty double-crosser. I want 'im keel hauled."

"You know I work clean. It will be swift and painless, but it will also be efficient and merciless. Is that acceptable?"

"Yeah, sure. So you'll do it?"

"Who's the target?"

"Retired sea dog by the name o' Otis Bartz. He was my second in command 'till a few days ago. He won't put up much of a fight, he's pretty good with a flint lock, but that's about it. He may even be injured. I dunno."

The monk opened his eyes for the first time and frowned. "You want me to handle internal affairs for you, Captain?"

"Ugh." Bikke grunted. "Yer right, I'd normally wax him meself, the only problem is… Where he's at right now is kinda 'inaccessible' to me."

"You do know where he is, then?"

"Of course."

Maduin closed his eyes again cracked his knuckles. "Where?"

"Cornelia City."

The fighter's eyes snapped back open. "That's a little far…"

"Uh huh." The pirate mused. "That's why I'm payin' half yer fee in advance, and I'll pay yer round trip sea fare. I'd take you meself, but I doubt I'd be able to dock the _Nirvana_ in Port Cornelia."

Maduin sighed. "Fifty thousand."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Fifty thousand in _advance_, Captain. Your total is one hundred k."

Bikke winced. Easy come, easy go. "All right, fair enough. I'm gonna ask you to do it now, though."

Maduin's frown became more pronounced. "Now as in… As fast as I can get there?"

"That'd be ideal. Why?"

"Well, I've been planning a sea trip for some time now. I have some unfinished business in Duergar. If you would be willing to let me go to Cornelia deferred, via Duergar, I'd be willing to renegotiate your final price. If I'm going that far, I might as go all the way, you know?" He sighed. "Is the target likely to move?"

"No, probably not. I think he's got asylum there.-" Bikke stopped short, he might have said to much.

"He's under the protection of the Cornelian authorities?"

"I dunno, to be honest."

Maduin indulged in the faintest of smiles. Bikke took that to be a very bad sign. If Otis was indeed under the protection of the knights, it would be hellishly difficult and expensive to hire another assassin. The tables had just turned drastically in Maduin's favor. Bikke kicked himself mentally.

"Two hundred thousand. All in advance. You're sending me to Duergar first, too." Maduin's smile widened. "And I take my time about it."

Bikke stood up an pounded his fists on the table. "Outrageous! Not a chance!"

The music stopped and the pub's patrons all snuck nervous glances in their direction. Maduin seemed wholly unperturbed. "How dead do you want him, Captain?"

Bikke sat down again and stroked his scraggly beard. "What's in Duergar?"

"None of your business. Is it a deal, then?"

The pirate king growled. "Yar. He's probably anticipatin' me retribution. Meet me down at Pier Eight. That's where I keep most o' me money these days." He stood and stomped out of the bar. Maduin sighed contentedly and closed his eyes again.

Outside, Bikke nearly trampled his bodyguard who was waiting for him. "Er, how'd things go, Cap'n?"

Bikke stopped and adjusted his hat. This had been the worst week for him in recent memory, but with Maduin Vargas on the job the pain was sure to be evenly distributed to those who deserved it most. "He took the job. Otis be as good as dead."

* * *

Argus stopped momentarily, leaning against his knees to catch his breath. He was in great shape, but still wasn't used to the thin mountain air. Sarina didn't seem to be having the same problem, but she was very accommodating of his fatigue. 

"Remind me… Why didn't we go to Cornelia City first?" He wheezed.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't risk any bureaucratic entanglements. It would have been extremely dishonest to arrive at the castle without reporting to the cardinal."

Argus stood again and sighed heavily. His breath was visible in the frigid air. "How close are we to the dwarven border?"

The white mage shrugged. "You have the map, you tell me."

Argus removed his heavy backpack and sat on it. Meanwhile, Sarina found a nice-sized boulder. She gingerly brushed the snow off and sat down. "It's beautiful up here." She mused. Argus reached into one of the pouch's pockets and pulled out the map, unrolling it as he did so.

"Looks like… We're about three days to Duergar City, another three to Mt. Duergar itself. We should be at the Cornelian-Duergar border by sundown tomorrow."

Sarina frowned. "There aren't any ships from D.C. to the mountain stronghold?"

Argus shook his head. "Mt. Duergar is an extinct volcano, completely landlocked. It's the tallest of a vast range of mountains that splits dwarven territory in two. The stronghold there isn't on the mountain or at its base. It's _in_ the mountain. I've been there once, to see Liam's ashes interred. It's like an infinite network of mines, forges and natural caverns. The catacombs are infested with fiends, but Liam's tomb isn't very far inside- fortunately."

The healer nodded gravely. "Sacramental burial grounds are seething with undead and demonic monsters these days. It's unavoidable."

"Yeah, and because of the caves there are plenty of 'natural' monsters as well. As if you could consider any fiend to be natural."

"Indeed." Sarina took a sip from her canteen. "I do hope your friend's crystal is safe."

Argus smiled and planned on saying something reassuring, but something turned his expression sour.

"What's wrong?" Sarina asked.

"Speaking of monsters… We've got company."

The healer turned slowly. On one of the rocky ledges was a rather large animal. In some respects, it resembled a deer, it had four hooved legs and an herbivorous build. Unlike deer however, the hooves were solid and there was only a single spiral horn on the head. It resembled the mythical horses of ancient legend, but between the horn, the glowing eyes and the vestigial wings on its feet- it was very obviously a unicorn.

"It's beautiful!" Sarina whispered in hushed awe.

"It's deadly. These things are a lot meaner than they look." Argus stood slowly, drawing his saber from its rusty scabbard. "Let's hope it goes about its business."

Sarina stood as well, producing her maul from beneath her flowing robes. Once again, Argus was taken by how calm and collected she looked. That just had to be a white mage technique, she was probably preparing to cast a lot of spells, after all.

The horse turned toward the two humans and snorted, stomping the ground as it did so. Its breath came out in thick clouds that looked like smoke. It wasn't nearly as intimidating as the ogre from the other day, but the terrain was a lot more treacherous. Argus had a bad feeling about this. "Let's get a Protect, okay? Use it on yourself too."

No sooner than Sarina started casting, everything went to hell. As the brilliant light of her aura flared up with the use of magic, the horn on the horse's head started to glow. The monster reared up on its hind legs and shrieked a mournful and very unsettling cry. When it came back down on all fours its eyes were glowing red and it charged, without delay, to the offending caster. Sarina noticed what was happening and hesitated momentarily.

"No! Finish the spell!" Argus dove in front of her.

Sarina complied and a familiar golden-white light enveloped him. Not one second later the unicorn impacted the protective barrier at full speed. Argus was unharmed, but the momentum had to go somewhere- the blow had knocked him back several strides. Although he was still standing, he had bowled Sarina over and she was rolling helplessly down the ledge.

Argus whirled around. "No! Sarina!" Just as he did so, the dazed unicorn turned around and kicked with both hind legs. The Protect absorbed the majority of the shock again, but not as much of it this time. Argus was knocked end-over-end and rolled down the ledge- crashing heavily on top of Sarina.

The wind was knocked out of him, but he willed himself up and off of the healer. The horse screeched again from the top of the ledge. It started gingerly hopping between stones and descending into the shallow chasm. It was obviously determined to finish what it started.

Sarina was conscious, thankfully, but a bit disoriented. "Are you okay? Heal yourself and get out of here!" Argus wheezed as he helped her to her feet. The unicorn was taking its time about descending, careful to avoid the same trauma it had just inflicted on the two humans.

She gasped for breath. "I'm fine. It seems to be overly sensitive to magic, maybe if I don't use any-"

"Forget that!" Argus shouted. "That thing's pissed! It's not gonna stop until we're blood stains on the granite! Just keep the Protect on me!"

Sarina collected herself and began to focus, the barrier that surrounded Argus began to shine more brilliantly. The horse stumbled momentarily as the magic made its horn glow again. Argus had an idea. "Cast another spell! I don't care what, just cast!"

Sarina frowned as pebbles and rocks crumbled to the ravine floor. The unicorn was now stranded on a very small ledge. She smiled and nodded, her face bright with sudden recognition of Argus' plan.

A blue-green aura surrounded Argus. It was Cure, he had felt the spell before, but didn't need it now- or did he? The nosebleed he didn't even know he had was now gone. The unicorn gave another outraged cry and reared up again. The last of the ledge gave way and the big animal came crashing down to the chasm floor. Argus ran toward the beast with his saber out, ready to finish it off.

If the unicorn was injured at all in the fall, it wasn't injured badly. It just seemed to be even more enraged. It rose to its feet quickly and Argus slid to halt. "Oh great." He muttered. There was nowhere for him to go now, at his rear was a cliff- a REAL cliff, the kind that led down the mountainside and towards certain doom.

"Protect Sarina! Protect!" The shield flared up again, only this time it came in the form of a large sphere instead of an armor-enhancing aura. The flaming-eyed horse charged once again. Its horn threw up sparks as it impacted the shield, but Argus miraculously didn't give up any ground. He turned around to see Sarina straining intensely to maintain the sphere's integrity.

The unicorn squealed and began pushing the magical sphere-with Argus inside- down the narrow ravine and towards the edge. Ice on the chasm floor facilitated this process. Argus was beginning to panic. The barrier worked both ways, he could not escape it or strike from within- he wanted to ask Sarina what he could do to help, but he didn't want to break her focus. The barrier looked unstable enough as it was.

Sweat poured down the healer's face as she willed against the the barrier she was simultaneously doing her level best to maintain. It was a losing battle, the horse was slowly but surely pushing Argus towards the cliff. She had to think of something.

"Get out of the way!" Sarina cried as she dispelled the barrier.

Just like that, the shield vanished and Argus dove off to the side- making a non lethal swipe at the monster's face as he did so. He landed with his back against the wall, rolling out of the way immediately as the disoriented beast changed direction. The rock wall he had been leaning against moments before was perforated by a horn as hard as diamond. He quickly moved out of the ravine and onto the open ledge, but he didn't gain much of an advantage by taking the fight out to the open again. "Any destructive spells you could use?" He asked plaintively.

"No." Sarina gasped. "None that will harm the living, I'm afraid."

The unicorn snorted and stomped- again. Argus grasped his blade in both hands and prepared to execute some brilliant improvised swordplay. _Oh, as if_. He thought bitterly. _We're doomed._

Just as the horse prepared to charge, a large shadow swept over it. Soon afterwards, a strong gust of wind ravaged the cliffside. Argus' jaw dropped in disbelief as he witnessed the flight of an impossibly large beast. It was a blue, tiger-striped dragon. No, too small. It was a wyvern. Realizing this beast was 'small' compared to other monsters in the world was more than a little disconcerting.

The unicorn's focus shifted immediately. It faced the flying reptile and shrieked at it. The wyrm responded with an unearthly roar of its own. The unicorn seemed to rethink its defiance briefly and looked about for shelter. Just as it was about retreat back into the chasm, the wyvern closed its wings and dove.

A blue and brown blur collided with the erstwhile aggressor and slammed it into the rock wall. Argus and Sarina held each other and the cliff face as the beast opened its wings and took flight again, this time with the whinnying horse in tow. The wyrm's sickle-shaped talons were deep inside the unicorn but it still thrashed about. The added weight and unruly nature of its prey made the wyvern's flight difficult. With one swift peck from its fanged beak, the unicorn's throat was destroyed. The whinnying stopped, and the wyvern resumed its return flight. Blood spilled from the airborne corpse it carried as it soared into the distance.

"Well, that works too." Argus tried to say it nonchalantly, but his voice cracked.

If Sarina noticed, she didn't say anything. "Let's get out of here- now."

"Agreed."

* * *

In a small desert region northwest of Pravoka, three travelers trudged wearily through the barren landscape. An observing party might have found the three quite comical in appearance: One scantily clad boy seemed dressed for a forest… or a sewer. He might have felt comfortable then, but the subtle ravages of the high sun would be felt by tomorrow morning. The second man had the opposite problem; he was cloaked in dark, heavy robes that would shield him from the sun… but bake him alive in the intense equatorial heat. He looked dressed for the mountains- only his tall straw hat seemed sensible for the weather. The attire of the third traveler was most ridiculous of all. While the cape and hat were not entirely out of place, the extravagant red tabard and tights would have been considered garish at a noble's ball- let alone in the middle of nowhere. 

The teenager in the lightest summer attire spoke up. "Okay, first question: Why are we marching single file? Second question: Why am I in the lead?"

An ethereal whisper sounded from all directions, but the source of it was the crotchety man in the giant hat. "Because we're tired, Vasquez. We've been marching all day and, unlike you, are not fully trained acrobats."

Kelga stopped, turned around and smiled. "So why are you dressed for the dead of winter, then? Take some of those heavy robes off!"

The black mage's narrow slits for eyes got big and round. "I'd sooner die." He muttered.

"You very well may, in this heat."

The flamboyant cavalier spoke up for the first time. "Those robes are lighter than they look. They're riddled with protective enchantments- the closest thing a member of his discipline can wear to heavy armor."

The wizard's yellow eyes narrowed again. "A true master of destruction requires the utmost in focus and concentration. My casting abilities would be compromised if I were to be bogged down in chain mail like you!"

Duane threw his hands up defensively. "I'm just explaining why you would willingly bake alive." He turned to Kelga and grinned. "As for you, shouldn't you be wearing… trousers? You live around here, you're familiar with sunburn, yes?"

The thief returned the grin and produced a small clamshell from his pouch. "That's where this comes in. It's one of Zok's ointments. It's made from some kind of plant oil- it protects against sunburn. With this, I can run around in short pants and never burn- just tan to the point that I don't look like a pasty white vampire like you."

Gilles chuckled for the first time on the whole trip. "You probably do burn easily don't you? Are you an albino or something?"

Duane snorted indignantly. "I most certainly am not! …But, I do burn easily. That cream's not especially rare or expensive, is it?"

Kelga shook his head. "Naw." He tossed the shell case to Duane, who deftly caught it. "Go crazy. It doesn't take much, and it lasts long. You should take that tunic off. You look like you haven't seen sun in like… ever."

"No, thank you." Duane removed his glove and dabbed some of the ointment under his green eyes. "Just for the face. The sunlight seems to reflect off the desert sand."

"Then take that frompy hat off!" Kelga's smile became vicious. "Let's see if we can bleach your hair from off-white to really white!"

Gilles was laughing heartily now, his flaming eyes had narrowed to the point where they almost disappeared. "Ha! How old are you, anyway?"

Duane closed the clamshell and tossed it back to Kelga. He turned to Gilles and frowned. "I'm twenty-three. You?"

"Twenty-five." The wizard laughed. "I should have guessed. You don't have the face of an old man.!"

"Ha! You're both old!" Kelga laughed.

Duane turned to Kelga briefly, then back to Gilles. "Well, at least, I _have_ a face!"

The thief laughed uproariously. "Ooh! Zinger! What's up with that anyway, Gilles?"

"A layman like you wouldn't understand! Suffice to say it's for your benefit, not mine." He started walking again. "Come on, let's go. Let's get out of this desert before it completely fries our brains."

The black mage walked for a few strides until Kelga shouted after him.

"Gilles! Stop! Don't move!"

The wizard stopped dead in his tracks. "What is it?" He asked in a low tone.

"Don't you guys hear that?" Kelga whispered.

Gilles slowly turned around. "I don't hear anything. What is he babbling about?"

Duane shrugged. "I don't hear anything either."

Kelga rolled his eyes. "There's something beneath us. Under the sand. How can you guys not hear it?"

"Oh great gods." Gilles muttered. "Please tell me it's not a land worm."

"There aren't any on this continent." Duane replied.

"Shh!" Kelga put his finger to his lips. "It's small." He whispered. "Not really that small, but not gigantic either." He stomped. The two mages strained to hear something, anything. A faint rustling and a low growl could be heard, but it was so faint it could just as well have been their imaginations.

Kelga walked a safe distance from his two companions and stomped again. The subterranean shifting was more pronounced this time. Kelga began to jump up and down. "It's coming, boys! Get ready!"

Duane didn't say anything- he merely drew his sword. Gilles stood there dumbfounded. "What's coming? Kelga, don't attract-"

Before the black mage could finish that sentence a plume of brown sand erupted exactly where Kelga had been standing moments before. Six sets of razor sharp talons thrashed at the empty space when the nimble young thief leapt to safety. He drew his scimitar and ran back to where Gilles and Duane stood, making an effort _not_ to look at the beast that had just appeared.

It was a large, blue, six-legged lizard. It's head was flat and round and the top was adorned with pointy ears what looked like a plant- but was probably gills or antennae of some sort. It stopped thrashing and its legs splayed out. It looked to the left and right and then turned completely around in place to face the three humans.

"Don't look directly into its face!" Kelga screamed.

Too late. The beast turned around and locked gazes with Gilles. The black mage stood there in stunned awe as its gigantic, multi-colored, faceted eyes paralyzed him in place. The monster's eyes then flashed brightly and Gilles gasped in pain- briefly. His cry was terminated in a dry crackling sound as his whole body was turned to stone.

"Damn it!" Kelga shouted. "We're on our own Duane! Think we can handle it?"

Duane's answer was not in Common, but in the Divine language of the ancients. Brilliant white light surrounded him and enveloped Kelga. A green mist shrouded the thief in the essence of wind. It was Barstone, a white magic spell that granted immunity from magical petrification.

"Um, what's that?" Kelga asked.

"It will protect you from the lizard's gaze. Distract it while I tend to Gilles."

The basilisk charged straight for Kelga. "Um, okay." The thief responded.

The fiend shrieked and leapt into the air. Kelga nimbly dove out of the way once again. Incredibly, he was back on his feet before the lizard was, and so he ran in to take a swipe at its leathery backside.

Blue scales and a bit of blood went flying, but the blow was nowhere near lethal. Instead, Kelga's attack served to make the lizard forget all about Duane and the statue of Gilles. It stared at the rogue and flashed its eyes brilliantly, but to no effect. The red mage's enchantment had worked.

"Hurry up, Duane!" Kelga called. "I think we might need his firepower!"

Duane was crouched at the feet of the petrified black mage. "Do you have any soft?" He called.

"Do I look like an alchemist?" Sparks erupted as Kelga's blade parried a threefold attack from the basilisk.

"You're good friends with one!"

The thief executed an impossible spin and jumped out of the way as the lizard pounced again. "Can't you cure him?"

"Do I look like a white mage? That's a sixth level spell!"

The beast shrieked in rage as the nimble thief continued to dodge its strikes. It pawed the ground and hissed. Kelga responded by dashing forward and striking with his cutlass. It was an amazingly precise hit, but once again, the lizard was only nicked and enraged, not seriously injured.

Just then the rogue's considerable luck ran out. He executed a feint that the basilisk did _not_ fall for. Likewise, the lizard made a mock charge that caused Kelga to dodge an attack that didn't exist. By the time he was in the air the lizard pounced on the exact spot where Kelga landed.

The thief was on his back with the basilisk right on top of him. It was still sprawled out from its flight and had yet to start clawing. Kelga didn't want to give it the chance. The sharp scales scraped on his bare legs as he kicked as hard as he could. The lizard was heavy, but not insurmountably so. It was also in the process of standing up when Kelga kicked.. This produced a gap large enough for him to crawl through as fast as he could.

While he was on his feet in no time, the lizard recovered even faster. As Kelga dashed away the basilisk made another triple swipe at his backside. Kelga yelled in pain and surprise as his tunic was shredded. His leather armor absorbed some of the damage where it was hit, but blood started pouring from the areas the armor did not protect.

A bright, blue-green holy aura struck Kelga seconds after the attack. The bleeding stopped and the lacerations were mended immediately. Kelga turned to cheer Duane on, but he was not the only one who noticed the interference. The basilisk made a hard right and dashed towards the red mage, shrieking wildly.

The fencer had anticipated the enmity, however. Just as the lizard closed the gap Duane made a broad, horizontal slash with his fleuret that countered the fiend's attack with a forceful blow. The lizard was knocked aside, but unhurt. Duane's powerful strike had cancelled out the pounce, but his relatively light rapier suffered from the same problem Kelga's weapon had: The lizard's hide was simply too thick.

"Your turn to play with him!" Kelga shouted. "Keep him off of me, I'll handle this!"

Duane didn't have the slightest clue how Kelga would 'handle' the situation, but he didn't say so. Although he was an exceptional fencer, it took all of his concentration to parry the constant attacks of the six-legged beast. He wouldn't be able to cast any spells while locked in this deadly game of cat and mouse either.

Kelga dashed up to the sedimentary likeness of Gilles, still frozen in his initial surprise at the sight of the basilisk. Years of pick pocketing in Pravoka made snatching the purse off of a statue ridiculously easy. He rummaged through the mage's possessions as quickly as he could. Why Gilles needed so much useless and disturbing detritus was beyond him, but there just HAD to be something of use in there.

_AHA! THERE_ Kelga's mind shrieked with glee as he spied a small vial of soft potion. He unstopped the cap and removed the long, gold needle inside. Without wasting another moment he jammed the needle into Gilles' arm as fast as he could. Golden light began to shine from the countless tiny cracks that formed in the statue's stone. The petrification shattered and turned to dust as Gilles gasped, understandably very disoriented from being turned to stone and back. He glanced around and briefly took stock of the situation.

Kelga pointed to the basilisk. "Kill it! Kill it now!"

The black mage shook off his confusion briefly and started chanting in the obscure, Hermetic language of the ancient Order of Chaos. He held his hands out and clapped them together. Blinding white light coalesced into razor sharp ice shard that shot towards the lizard at blinding speed.

Duane gasped in surprise as the frozen missile impaled the beast from the side. The magical, absolute zero projectile penetrated the basilisk's hide easily and ran it completely through. The lizard shrieked in pain as it began to freeze solid. It's six legs thrashed about as its body contorted in sub-zero agony.

Shortly after it stopped screaming, the basilisk shattered to pieces.

"That was AWESOME!" Kelga cheered, slapping Gilles on the back.

"Yes, well, I couldn't have done it without you." The black mage mumbled.

"How did you cure him?" Duane wheezed as he sat down right there in the sand and ice, gasping for breath.

"Gilles had soft! I borrowed some."

Gilles started patting himself down. "Where's my pouch?" He looked over to where his purse lay upturned in the sand, his scrolls, bottles and assorted unmentionables blowing about in the desert wind. "My things!" He ran over to the pile and started collecting his belongings.

"You're welcome." Kelga muttered.


	13. Chapter 13: Duergar

Two humans looked decidedly out of place as they maneuvered up a crowded mountain road to the dwarven stronghold of Mt. Duergar. Argus clanked laboriously as he walked along, he had recently purchased a suit of iron platemail armor- complete with a new sword and shield- in Duergar City. He had pawned off what little valuables he had brought with him, as well as his old saber. Unfortunately, it still wasn't enough to pay for the new equipment in full. Sarina had graciously delved into her own pocket to make up the difference. Argus swore to pay her back as soon as he could, but she wrote off the debt as making sure her defenders were well-equipped.

The pair were deep within dwarven territory, so it was not at all surprising that the majority of the people they passed were dwarves. Some wore heavy armor that put Argus to shame while others wore the extravagant robes of merchants or the rugged and practical tunics of miners. Mt. Duergar was rich in mineral wealth; iron, copper, zinc, silver, gold and- until recently- mythril could be mined in abundance there. Smoke poured from countless stacks that protruded aboveground but actually originated several kilometers beneath the surface. The forges of Mt. Duergar never slept, the semi-nocturnal dwarves worked tirelessly crafting the finest weapons, armor and tools on the Aldean Sea.

"I really hope the Earth Crystal is where you say." Sarina murmured softly as she padded daintily up the cobblestone road. "It would be tragic if it fell prey to grave robbers…"

"You really need to quit worrying about the crystal." Argus replied. "The dwarves keep their tombs secure, there isn't really much that's more important to them than their burial grounds. Liam was a blacksmith, not a gem collector, and no one else really knew about the crystal but me. I told you, the most we have to worry about are undead."

"The undead do not worry me in the least." The healer replied with firm conviction. Argus wondered what it was about zombies and ghosts that made them less of a threat than dragons and giants. Sarina slumped her shoulders slightly and sighed. "I'm sorry for fretting so much, Argus. It's just that I don't think you realize the true significance of this artifact. In fact, I am probably ignorant of the Light's true significance."

"Okay then…" Argus mused. "Once we retrieve it, then what? We take it back to Cornelia and report to your boss, this Cardinal What's-His-Face? Then what?"

"Vias is undoubtedly far more knowledgeable about the Prophecy than I. I am sure he will know what do , or at least know who does. In fact, Lukhan himself currently resides in Cornelia City. The Cardinal may even bring us before the great sage…"

"So this Lukhan guy, he's the leader of the Church then? The head white mage person-guy?"

Sarina shook her head. "No. Sage Lukhan is not officially affiliated with the church, nor is he a holy man at all_ per se_. He's the single greatest philosopher and prophet of our time. The Prophecy itself actually goes back hundreds of years, but it was Lukhan who discerned the final details of the legend and restored the people's hope that it would actually come to pass."

Argus bit his lip. "I'm sure the starving people of Melmond can feed their kids fables and fairy tales." He muttered.

"It's true that the disaster is unevenly distributed, but it is a problem that faces everyone. Duergar's plight will soon become the plight of Cornelia and Elfheim. Don't forget that this is just the power of earth, as well. There are still three other great forces that are corrupted."

The fighter looked thoughtful for a moment. "I've got- or will get- the Earth Crystal, you have the Water Crystal, there's two more left right? What are they? How will we find them?"

"Assuming we can secure the Earth Crystal, the Fire and Wind Crystals still remain at large. I wouldn't even begin to know where to look, I can only hope Cardinal Vias or Sage Lukhan can point us in the right direction."

Argus nodded. "Okay, assuming we're like, the chosen ones or something, doesn't that mean that there are two more people out there we need to find? Are we supposed to team up with them to rid the world of evil or what?"

"I'm sorry, Argus. I really don't know much about the legend. I admittedly didn't place much stock in it before, and had actually assumed the Light of the Sea was a stand alone relic. Let's concentrate on one thing at a time. For now, I'm just going to trust in my own destiny."

The two walked in silence towards the main gates of Mt. Duergar. Although the average dwarf was pretty short by human standards, the cavernous opening was absolutely enormous. On either side were two towering statues of ancient dwarven heroes. More modern constructs, namely a fortified gate, accented the cave's ominous appearance. Two dwarven warriors in resplendent golden armor stood guard on either side of the gate. One carried a great axe, while the other wielded a halberd. They wore helms that obscured their faces, but their beards protruded out from beneath their masks. The two guards nodded cordially at any dwarf who deigned to enter the stronghold, but when the two humans approached they stood shoulder-to-shoulder and crossed their weapons together.

"Lali-ho there, bonne lassie!" One dwarf growled at Sarina. "What brings ye to Mt. Duergar, finest place in all the world?"

Argus felt slightly indignant that the guards had addressed Sarina and not him, but it stood to reason. She was dressed in the unmistakable red and white robes of a church healer. His dingy armor made him look like her cut-rate escort- which wasn't that far from the truth.

Sarina smiled and bowed politely. "My friend and I are paying our respects to a mutual friend who is interred here. We'll be visiting his tomb if that's possible."

The dwarf with the halberd snorted. "There be no humes buried here, understand? This be sacred burial ground for dwarfkind only."

"He _was_ a dwarf." Argus replied haughtily, annoyed.

The guards were unperturbed. "So ye're on personal business then? Ye don't come on behalf o' the human empire?"

Sarina's smile didn't weaken in the least. "No, I assure you, we're not on any official church business. This is a strictly personal matter."

The first dwarf spoke up again. "That's actually kinda regrettable, really. We were hopin' the church would respond to oor request, but this is a little soon for 'em, come ta think of it."

The white mage frowned. "Why? Is something the matter?"

"Aye. There was a bad quake yesterday, I'm amazed you didn'a feel it- but I guess I had heard the capitol was unaffected. 'Twas pretty bad here, though…"

"…How bad?" Her voice betrayed genuine concern.

"Oy, pretty bad." The other dwarf replied. "We haven't even begun to inspect the catacombs for damage. The forges an' refineries will recover, there weren't any serious injuries, but the mines… The mines… Many deaths…"

"I'm so sorry." Sarina spoke softly. "Do you need assistance searching for survivors? Do the injured need attended to?"

The guard shook his head. "This is a state matter, you'd best be about yer business. Thank ye kindly lass, but if the church didn'a send ya, there's not a lot we can ask of ya."

"Think nothing of it. We'll do whatever we can to help.

Argus' jaw dropped. _We?_ he mouthed silently. Sarina ignored him.

The other guard nodded and whistled. Another soldier emerged from the darkened cave and joined the other two. The guard barked orders in Dwarfish to the newcomer, then turned back to Sarina. "Thank ye kindly for yer offer again, lass. Truth be told, we really could use yer help, he'll take you tae the Chief. He'll send you two where ye're needed most."

At the entrance to the mines complex, workers dashed to and fro, desperately trying to clear away rubble in the vain hope that anyone who survived the initial cave-in would still be alive. The two soldiers led Argus and Sarina to a makeshift platform where a youngish-looking dwarf barked orders over a megaphone. The lead guard called up to the official, who was apparently the chief engineer they had been told about.

Instead of using the ladder, the stout man leapt from the top of the platform, his sturdy legs absorbing the shock of the impact perfectly. "What is it? I cannae be interrupted at a time liken this!"

The lead guard nodded slightly. "Chief Nerrick, these humes have volunteered their services in findin' oor kin." He gestured to where Argus and Sarina stood, looking rather uncomfortable. "A proper white mage and 'er bodyguard. They came tae help."

Nerrick nodded to Sarina. "Ye've been sent by the church in Cornelia then, eh?"

Sarina shook her head. "My name is Sarina Alexandra, and this is my friend, Argus Baron. We're actually here on personal business, but we'd like to help in any way we can."

The engineer was visibly pleased, but he merely nodded sagely at the healer. "We're in yer debt, lassie. There's plenty o' wounded aboot. Sergeant, take her tae the hospice. There won't be much there that yer magic cannae fix, ma'am."

Sarina bowed as the guard led her away. Argus started after them but Nerrick called to him. "Nay so fast there, laddie. Ye're no magician, are ye?"

Argus stopped and slowly turned. "No, I'm just a traveler."

Nerrick nodded. "And a brauer hume blacksmith there never was, if memory serves. Ye're Liam's boy, nay?"

"…Yes. Why? How do you know Liam?"

"I don't, regrettably. Not personally, at least. We had a mutual friend and colleague, I hear he spoke fondly o' ya." Nerrick grabbed a pickaxe off the cavern floor and gestured for Argus to follow him. "So ye're a fighter now, eh? How's that workin' oot for ya?"

"Well, I haven't been adventuring long. My hometown was recently destroyed and I'm helping Sarina with a… very important mission of hers. What exactly are you going to have me do here, Chief Nerrick?"

"Oy, just call me 'Nerrick'. I'd liken you tae help search fer survivors, if you would. The quake opened up some previously unexplored caverns. We think they may be a shortcut to the ruined mines, but they're lippin' o'er with gruesome monsters."

"…I'm gonna have backup, right?"

"Of course, I wouldn'a send ya in alone. Truth is, I need all the mer I can spare just clearin' the rubble. Yer stoot boy, but ye're no dwarf. You look like you'd be better suited fer security than haulin' rock."

Argus didn't say anything for a long time before he spoke up. "I thought this volcano was extinct and the region geologically stable. Isn't this the first earthquake in hundreds of years?"

"Aye. 'Twas a pretty bad shake, it was. Oor geologists have concluded that Mt. Duergar's as dead as it e'er was. The quake was caused by the land she sits on, not the volcano she used tae be. Many died yesterday, and many more are still missin'. We've gotta find 'em before it's too late. Production's at a standstill, but aside from the casualties, the worst consequence is bein' the state o' the canal. Namely, it's not there no more."

Argus stopped abruptly. "The Duergar Canal was destroyed?"

"Aye, it was. The landslide filled 'er in like there ne'er was one tae begin with. The Aldean's literally a giant, salt water lake now. …And Melmond's cut off from the mainland. This be compoundin' their current problem. We've been dependent on imported foodstuffs from Cornelia for some time now. With travel by sea now impossible, this may be Melmond's death sentence."

"What about the roads? Hrothman's Pass?"

Nerrick shook his head. "Destroyed in the quake as well, they were. Western Duergar's practically it's own country now. As soon as we're done cleanin' up 'ere, oor first prioty'll be reopenin' the canal." He stopped short as they reached the entrance to some very foreboding-looking caves. Nerrick shouted something in Dwarfish and another guard came out of the darkness. Argus nodded as Nerrick introduced him.

"This be Argus Baron. Go easy on 'im. He's a hume, so he's mighty frail- don't let the armor fool ya. He's graciously offered tae assist in the search 'n' rescue. And in the monster 'disposal'."

The guard extended his bulky hand and Argus took it. "Pleasure tae make yer acquaintance Mr. Baron. We're gonna need all the help we can get. Follow me, please."

"Good luck, laddie!" Nerrick shouted as Argus and the guard descended into the darkness. "Ye'll need it." He whispered under his breath.

* * *

"How's in goin' up in 'ere, lassie?" Nerrick shouted to Sarina as he entered the hospice. The room was a wide-open cavern chamber that the elders of the Mining Guild and their subordinate engineers used to plan projects. After the disaster, it had been converted into a makeshift triage. 

Sarina Alexandra looked up from the operating table. The dwarven surgeons were plenty capable, but they couldn't match the antiseptic and accelerated healing properties of her white magic. Thankfully, she had taken on a primarily supportive role- for the dwarves were far from medically ignorant.

"I think we have things under control here, Chief." She answered. "It's just as I was taught- dwarven physiology is not so different from that of an elf or human. In fact your people seem to respond to my magic more readily. That's some impressive vitality."

"That's good tae hear, lass. Are there any moor dead? Any moor permanently injured?"

Sarina mopped her brow with her loose-fitting sleeve. "No fatalities, fortunately, but some of the casualties are regrettably injured beyond the scope of my training. Your engineers seemed to indicate that toxic gasses were vented from some of the collapsed shafts. I've so far been unable to dispel the poison, as it's symptomatically different from monster venom. The effects don't seem to be fatal, but it will be some time before they can breathe normally again."

"Ye've done all ya ken, lady healer. We're ferever in yer debt." Nerrick removed his hat and bowed hastily.

"Nonsense Chief, it's good practice. My only regret is lacking the full repertoire necessary to really be effective." Sarina tried to offer a reassuring smile. "So that's my report. How's the search and rescue going? Any more survivors?"

"All the patrols are in, except the monster sweepers. So far nothing. I jes' hope any one still trapped dies quickly."

"And the canal?"

Nerrick winced, and Sarina suspected that this was the worst news of all- at least from a dwarven perspective. "We've... hit a rock." Nerrick replied. "The excavation is practically over. We cannae bluiter that rock without high explosives- and we don't have any."

"I was under the impression that Duergar's alchemists were renowned for advancements in explosives."

Nerrick nodded. "Aye, we have gunpouder. Gross loads o' gunpouder. But there be iron ore in the collapsed mountaintop. We need nitro- and we're clean out o' the raw materials to synth it. Same as mythril."

"I'm sorry." Sarina said softly. "I wish there was more we could do."

"Nonsense. You've been a great help 'ere, lass. I'm sorry we've interrupted yer li'l vacation. In fact, you kin be about yer business now. The immediate crisis has passed."

Sarina nodded. "Well, okay then. Where's Argus? You said the searches have all returned?"

Nerrick glanced about nervously. "Aye, the searches are back... all 'cepting his. We haven't heard from his party yet, but they're not that long overdue. Maybe they found somethin'?"

"Maybe." Sarina said evenly. "Maybe not. Which way did he go?"

"You don't need to put yerself through any more trouble, milady. It's dangerous down there."

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself. Where was he headed?"

Nerrick maintained his nervous look. "Aye, well- I sent him to inspect the caves that appeared after the quake. Specifically, the ones that made a sort of 'back entrance' intae the catacombs."

"The catacombs? We were headed there anyway. Can you take me there?"

Before Nerrick could respond, an armor-clad dwarf dashed into the room. "Chief Nerrick!" He gasped. "We've an intruder in oor midst! Someone whacked the guards at the catacombs and went inside!"

"The devil?" Nerrick looked back and forth between Sarina and the guard. "Whacked? As in killed? Was it a fiend?"

"Nay, not killed." The guard explained as he caught his breath. "Just knocked oot. Probably grave robbers takin' advantage o' the quake!"

"They're in danger." Sarina unfastened the hammer from her belt and strode down towards the guard. "Can you take me there?"

The guard nodded and turned to leave, but Nerrick shouted after them. Sarina spun on her heels, fed up with patronization. "What?" She demanded. "Something's not right. My friend is in danger, and I may be the only one who can help him! And I'll be damned if you're going to stop me!"

"Sarina?" Nerrick asked plaintively.

"What?"

The dwarven Chief Engineer strode over to the far wall and removed something from an ornate shelf. He then walked down the embankment to meet her. "Take this." He said, and handed her a weapon. It was a hammer not unlike her own, but it gleamed with silver-blue brilliance.

"Nerrick..." Sarina said softly as she took the weapon from him. "Is this mythril?"

"Aye, it's stronger an' lighter than the bronze ye've been using. It's also a lot moor reactive to magic, as ye should already know."

"Thank you. Truly, thank you. I don't know what else to say." She turned briskly to follow the guard out of the chamber.

"And Sarina?" Nerrick called again.

"Yes?"

"Good luck, lassie."

The healer nodded gravely and marched outside.

* * *

"Got another one!" Argus shouted to the two armored dwarves that had accompanied him for the entirety of this fruitless trip. The two soldiers clanked as they dashed up to inspect the latest corpse. It was an ankheg, a giant centipede-like insectoid monster. This one was fallen from the same deep slash marks that had marked every carcass they had encountered thus far. 

The two dwarves mumbled amongst themselves in their native tongue. Argus really, really wished they would use Common around him. Although he had lived among dwarves for the better part of his life, Liam had never taught him the language. He had always called it a 'dying tongue' and hardly ever used it himself. Even when other dwarves came to visit and spoke to Liam in Dwarfish, he would respond in Common.

So far, they had seen several dead monsters and had not encountered a single live one. The deep slash marks suggested a clawed beast of incredible power. Fiend-on-fiend predation was not uncommon, but when monsters killed each other they usually did so for sustenance. Simply leaving an otherwise intact corpse to rot was very strange behavior indeed.

Aside from this mystery, which they were currently investigating, the search party had been a complete waste of time. Not a single survivor was found, and as it turned out these newly revealed caves did not connect to the mines. They did connect to the catacombs, however, and that was their current location. The group's secondary task had been the elimination of any monsters in the caverns, but something incredibly tough was doing that for them. It was at Argus' behest that they investigated the cause of these attacks, but he was beginning to wonder if that was such a good idea. A twelve meter bug lay eviscerated before him, after all. Not to mention the dead minotaur they had spotted a few caves back.

"Same scratch marks." The ranking dwarf muttered. 'Scratch' was quite the understatement, but then again neither of the two guards seemed all that perturbed about such a monstrosity roaming around beneath their city.

"Does this give you guys any new info? Have any guesses about what we're up against yet?"

The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know of any monster with claws like that. At least not around here…"

"We're in the catacombs, could it have been some manner of undead? A demon?"

"It's possible, but these gashes sure are clean. They look like they're made by metal if you ask me…"

"Metal…" Argus mused. The more they learned about this enigmatic monster slayer, the more of an enigma it became. "Well, we'd better go back and report this to the Chief, you suppose?"

The sergeant nodded. "Aye, we shouldn't be in the catacombs anyhow. Oor original task is complete, let's head out."

Just as the three were about to head for the exit, a loud shriek erupted from the darkness. It was another ankheg, but it didn't sound like it was the attacker. Argus swallowed and waved his torch in the direction of the noise. "Well, I think we're gaining on it."

The two dwarves didn't say anything, they just brandished their weapons and started marching in the direction. Argus fallowed. His longer stride made it easy to keep up with them, but their pace was brisk nonetheless. When they reached the ankheg, it was already dead, and their was no trace of whatever killed it. It's waxy, hardened carapace was shredded and its wicked-looking mandibles lay severed on the tomb floor.

"I have a very bad feeling about this." Argus muttered. One of the dwarves crossed himself. Argus looked around and couldn't believe his luck: The heavy stone door that dominated the far wall was adorned with unmistakable glyphs. This was Liam's tomb! It would be pointless to come back later when he was this close now!

"Guys, this tomb belongs to a friend of mine. I left something really important inside when he was first interred. I'm going to get it back now. Is that a…!"

Argus took a closer look at the tomb door. It was cracked open ever so slightly. "…Problem?" Argus finished his original sentence and dashed up towards the opening. Pale blue light filtered out through the musty air. Faint shuffling could be heard inside. Something was in there and chances were it was whatever had been killing the monsters.

"I'm going in." Argus drew his broadsword and slowly approached the opening.

"Ye're daft, laddie!" The sergeant whispered after him. "That thing'll cut us tae ribbons."

"Then go get help." Argus replied. "This man was like a father to me, the only real father I had. I'm not going to let his grave be plundered by fiends!"

Wordlessly the two dwarves dashed away. Argus briefly second-guessed the wisdom of dismissing his support, but it was worth the extra reinforcements, he decided. He sidestepped through the narrow gap. Whatever this thing was, it couldn't be very big. Maybe it was humanoid?

Argus set his torch in one of the two stands near the door. One already had a lit torch. It was impossible for it to have been burning for four years. Something- _someone_ must have just lit it. Despite the two torches, it was still quite dark in the tomb and his eyes strained to make anything out. What he could make out was a tall, humanoid shadow standing irreverently atop a heavy brass chest. It was a man, a human. He wore ornate yet sporty blue robes and carried multiple weapons. A long metal staff was strapped to his back while nunchaku hung from his black belt. Most prominent of all were the gigantic steel claws attached to his hands by the gauntlets he wore. The man smiled faintly as he removed the claws and fixed them to his belt.

"Just what the hell are you doing here?" Argus barked.

"I could be asking you the same question." The fighter replied.

"Hah! My foster father is buried here, and I've come to reclaim a keepsake of mine I had buried with him." Argus narrowed his eyes and raised his shield. "Your turn."

"I'm just after some levistone. My monastery recently excavated an airship and are trying to get it running again."

Argus rolled his eyes. Did he take him for a child? Metal that floated in the air, ships that sailed in the sky! "Nice try. Liam was a blacksmith, he wouldn't know anything about such a thing. Now what are you really here for?"

The monk's faint smile turned into a full grin. "This." He produced a long silver chain with an amber colored crystal set in the pendant. He twirled it about his fingers blithely. "And now that I have it, I'll be on my way."

"Not if I can help it." Argus took a half step forward.

"Trust me, you can't."

"I will try."

"'Try' indeed." The monk pocketed the Earth Crystal and brandished the long metal staff. He nimbly vaulted to the far end of the tomb and down to the floor a few strides in front of Argus. He began twirling the staff around with impressive dexterity. Argus bellowed a war cry and charged; his shield held out in front of him and his sword held high.

The monk started backpedaling until Argus had him in a corner. He then held his staff horizontally and deftly guarded the warrior's first strike. Sparks flew up but Argus didn't waste any more time he drew back and this time went for a thrust. The monk twirled the staff again, parrying what would have been a lethal blow. As Argus was knocked off balance, the monk went on the offensive. He executed a broad swing that hit nothing but shield- but despite the successful block Argus was knocked several steps back.

From that point on the monk's attacks were swift and relentless. A counter was impossible, it was all Argus could do to block and parry every strike. _He's toying with me._ Argus thought. His suspicions were confirmed when the grave robber knelt down and made a swift, wide swing parallel to the ground. Sparks flew up as Argus' boots were struck with great force. His legs were literally knocked out from under him and he went down- hard. The monk then brought the pole up to bear for a vertical downward swing that would have ended the fight, but Argus parried with his sword. He did his best to push upward against the superior strength of the martial artist- trying and failing.

Without warning the monk let up and took a step back. Argus swung his blade at his adversary, but it was a wide miss. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as his armor would allow, but his attempts to do so were answered by a powerful kick to the abdomen. The kick sent Argus across the room and he crashed into the far wall- landing in a sitting position.

The grave robber laughed and put his staff way, bringing out the nunchaku. He started twirling them around. A blow to the head from THAT would certainly ruin his day. Argus was beginning to wish he wore a helm.

He willed himself to his feet, but as he was doing so the monk stopped twirling his weapons. He instead swiftly made fists and thrust his arms out, stabbing them into the air in Argus' direction. The air rippled as it was rended by an invisible shockwave. That shockwave struck Argus like nothing he'd felt before. He'd made a crater in the wall from that blow even. The fight was over. He had no idea how many ribs were broken- but there was no way he was standing up again without some white magic.

As if the gods had heard his thoughts the familiar aura of Cure enveloped him. He could feel the massive internal trauma retreat with the pain as his strength flowed back in. He took a deep, unobstructed breath and rose to his feet. When he did so he was pleasantly surprised to see Sarina standing in the doorway. She shimmered with the golden light of a Protect spell.

The monk seemed just as surprised to see her- but oddly enough didn't attack. Argus took the initiative and charged toward him as Sarina laid a Protect on him too. The grave robber's attention returned and he swiped at Argus' head with his weapons. Every blow hit, but to no effect- the barrier absorbed the damage. The last thing on the monk's face before it was bashed in by Argus' shield was a mixture of surprise and confusion.

* * *

Sarina fastened her new mythril hammer to her belt and tucked it under her robes. "Thank you for not killing him." 

Argus glanced down at the twitching mass of monk he had just laid waste to. "Wait, he's not dead?" He drew his sword. "How sloppy of me."

"No!" Sarina cried. "Don't kill him!"

"Why?"

"I… know him."

"You 'know' him?"

She hung her head. "We were born in the same city, our families are- were- closely affiliated. I visited him at the Ryukahn Monastery several years ago on holiday. That's while we were still training. We were… good friends for about a month or so, and then I had to return to Onrac. I sent him letters and such, but never got a response. Upon my graduation I returned to Crescent Lake to learn that he had been excommunicated from the order. The Ryukahn monks are among the most lethal fighters in the world, strong in both body and spirit. Many of their creeds and precepts run parallel to that of my own order. Everyone was so tight-lipped as to why he was branded a heretic. To this day I never heard anything definite, only rumors."

Argus frowned. "Do you think him being booted out had anything to do with him being an evil bastard?"

The monk made a wet snorting noise on the tomb floor as he tried to breathe through a shattered face, still unconscious.

Sarina was quiet for a moment. "…I suppose it stands to reason that he became a freelance adventurer, it's the only real practical application for his training. Conventional militaries are eschewing martial arts in favor of steel, magic and gunpowder these days. It's just… appalling. Tomb robbing is so out-of-character for him. The Maduin I knew was kind, if a bit reserved. He was not irreverent in the least. He could be passionate at times, but only with the best intentions. How could he have sunken so low?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Argus shuffled over to the brass chest and sat down with a heavy metal impact. "What did you say his name was?"

"Maduin." Sarina replied, kneeling before the fallen foe. "Maduin Vargas. You've heard of him?"

"Nope, never. I just thought- oh, yeah!"

"What?"

Argus stood up again and walked over to where Maduin lay. He kneeled with Sarina and fished through Maduin's pockets.

"The crystal…" Sarina murmured as Argus produced a silver chain exactly like the one she wore- except for the stone of course. "He was after the Earth Crystal? This is your friend's tomb?"

"Yes and yes." Argus stood up and examined the artifact in greater detail. "I have no idea what he wanted with it. He wouldn't tell me, and I wasn't about to let him get away with it, either."

"This changes things."

Argus looked at her cockeyed. "I don't see that it does."

"Well perhaps not then, but I think we would be well-served to get some answers" Her inspection of Maduin's trauma complete, she stood and started casting Cure.

Argus turned away from the greenish-blue flash and the sickening sound of Maduin's facial bones re-aligning themselves. The incantation complete, Argus turned to see Maduin sit up, gasping. Before the ex-monk could even take stock of his surroundings, Argus' blade was at his throat.

"Anything clever and you die. That simple."

"Argus that isn't necessary." Sarina walked around and knelt down in front of the recovering man. "Long time no see, Maduin."

Despite the Cure spell, Maduin was obviously suffering from severe head pain. He winced and squinted at the healer before him. "Sarina? It really is you, then. Long time indeed. Can I stand?"

Argus removed his blade from Maduin's throat and took a step back. "Be my guest."

Sarina crossed her arms and frowned. "I wish I could say it's good to see you again, but these are rather unpleasant circumstances you've brought to bear. Tell me, are you really a petty grave robber now, or do you just make it a habit to interfere with destiny?"

Maduin sighed. "You still believe the future is static? And here I thought Ryukahn was bad."

"Answer the question." Sarina ordered coolly. "What do you want with the Earth Crystal?"

This statement apparently surprised the monk. "You… know of it?" He patted himself down quickly before resigning himself to the fact that it had been confiscated. "You knew what you had in your possession and you left it here?"

Strangely enough, Sarina smiled, apparently relieved. "No, it belongs to Argus here. He is the rightful bearer of the Earth Crystal as I am the apparently destined to be the aquamancer." She produced her own chain to illustrate her point. "That makes us two _de facto_ Light Warriors."

"By the gods…" Maduin whispered. "Two of the four, do you know where the other two are?"

Sarina shook her head. "We're fresh out of leads. Destiny brought the two of us together, and now we must make haste to Cornelia to seek the cardinal's guidance. Would you accompany us, then?"

"What?" Argus couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This bastard tried to kill me! He violated Liam's grave and almost single-handedly made this entire trip for nothing! Now you want him tagging along?"

"Heroes are not born, little man, they're made." Maduin sneered at Argus contemptuously. "You won because of her magic, you're no match for me. You being a Warrior of Light while I am not is equal parts absurd and insulting." He extended an open hand to receive the relic. "Come on, why don't you pass on the burden to those fit to carry it?"

Argus' ears were burning red. "Why don't you lick my arse before I break your face AGAIN?"

"Why don't you both grow up and stop acting like squabbling little children!" Sarina shouted. Both fighters withered at her rebuke, apparently both believed to have had her favor when they clearly did not. "Maduin, I don't know what iniquitous thoughts you've been entertaining during your years in exile, but you do NOT interfere with destiny- not on my watch. Argus is the geomancer, not you."

Argus crossed his arms and grinned smugly until Sarina whirled on him and jabbed a finger into his cuirass. "And YOU get over yourself, boy. You've got some real talent, don't get me wrong, but he's a Ryukahn monk- or rather used to be. Did you miss that part about their order being lethal? That wasn't hyperbole. He could very well kill you where you stand, and would have, had it not been for me. There is all kinds of power, Argus. Just because we're the chosen ones doesn't mean we arrogantly turn down support from those with formidable strength."

Argus appeared a handsbreadth shorter. "You're right."

Sarina turned back to Maduin. "So what, you're some kind of mercenary now? Stop at nothing to accomplish your objectives? Would you mind telling me why you resorted to such brutality?"

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Maduin sighed. "I wasn't going to kill him, really I wasn't. I had no idea it was really his and he really knew of its significance. I traced the crystal here, and thought perhaps I could become one of the Four. My mission is nothing less than the restoration of the world. If I am not one of the Four, I will do my best to assist them." He broke gazes with Sarina momentarily. "And I have some business to attend to in Cornelia, anyway."

"So it's settled then." Sarina smiled pleasantly. "Our next stop is Cornelia City. We should get out of here before we attract unwanted dwarven attentions." She turned to the two men. "Can you boys put your initial encounter behind you and get along? I would hate to have to baby-sit a couple of rowdy teenagers all the way back into human territory."

Maduin extended his hand to Argus once again, this time in a decidedly more amicable gesture. "It appears we met each other on unpleasant terms, maybe we should start over? I'm Maduin Vargas, Ryukahn Black Belt and former white monk. You're not half bad, actually."

Argus took his hand and shook it firmly. "Argus Baron, self-taught fighter and former blacksmith. Those were some impressive moves yourself, I might add."

"Aww…" Sarina cooed as she stepped out into the gloom. "You boys are so sweet when you play nice. Saving the world is so much easier when you're friends with your fellow heroes- or at least not trying to kill each other. Let's get out of here. I'd like to see the light of day again."


	14. Chapter 14: Fall of Garland

The king's ball had quite a turnout that night. Garland leaned against a polished marble pillar and sipped his champagne as he listened to the orchestra play _Wanderer of the Star_s, a pleasant and light-hearted song that was perfect for dancing. The knight gazed out over the ballroom floor at the garishly dressed aristocrats in their ridiculous frocked suits and white wigs. Garland wore his armor, the same suit of armor he had worn practically everywhere since he was promoted to general. It was actually the trademark bluish armor of a dragoon- a bit light for a knight, but he preferred the mobility afforded by the lighter plate mail. His armor had been specially cleaned and polished for this occasion, of course, but he still looked decidedly out of place. The horned headgear that was the mark of his knighthood sat atop a head of long, blonde hair that attracted more than a few glances from the womenfolk. He continued to stare.

His Majesty was prone to throwing celebrations with little-to-no rationale behind them but a desire to celebrate. Pundits found this decadence to be distasteful and it was a ripe and omnipresent target for criticism, but tonight was actually a special night- the most festive Garland could remember since Sarah's seventeenth. Tonight marked the beginning of an ambitious project to rebuild the drawbridge over the Northern Strait. The bridge had been lost long ago to a combination of weather and aquatic monsters, and its loss was one of the many things that turned Pravoka into a lawless den of thieves. With the bridge rebuilt, land trade with the remainder of Cornelia's protectorates would become commonplace again, and the Royal Army would be able to march right into Pravoka. He smiled. _The chancellor may not allow acts of aggression against our neighbors, but the king will soon see the wisdom in retaking Provoka. Its anarchy is a blight, an embarrassment before the elves and the dwarves. They fall prey to that city's pirates as well._

One figure in particular caught his attention: A gorgeous, emerald-haired girl in the most resplendent gown he had ever seen. He locked gazes with Sarah from across the room. She smiled at him and he nodded back ever so slightly. For a moment it seemed like she wished to cross the room and speak with him, but she was intercepted by a well-dressed noble in red. While she maintained a pleasant façade before Count Sorel, one could read the disappointment and annoyance in her body language. Garland couldn't fault her for that, he had been lucky enough to avoid the count on most of these gatherings- he seemed to have a disdain for military types- but what few exchanges they did have were barely civil, let alone pleasant. The man was an insufferable boor. Rumor had it that he drove his own brother into self-imposed exile.

Garland sighed as Sarah apparently accepted Anton's offer to dance, but he was content with watching her do so. He sipped his drink in silent admiration of his unofficial fiancé's gracefulness. He wanted her- badly. The Light Crystal shimmered brightly as she spun and twirled. Garland lusted after that as well, but to a lesser extent.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" A tall figure approached Garland from behind, seemingly out of nowhere.

The knight whirled around, genuinely surprised. "I beg your pardon?"

Garland had never seen the man before. He wore an extravagant but subdued fencer's outfit with a dark blue cape. His long, red hair was pulled back into a braid that spilled out over his high collar. The bright, fiery shade of his hair contrasted sharply with his pale, colorless skin and dull green eyes.

The man gave Garland a sharp, predatory grin. "The princess, of course. She is possessed of a beauty that elves would claim impossible to cultivate in a human." He extended his hand. "General Garland, I presume."

"You are correct sir." Garland took his hand. "Unfortunately I have no idea who you are."

"Lord Berne of Melmond, but you can call me Raxle. I've heard a lot about you, Wyrmkiller. The stories and songs do indeed impress."

"They are greatly exaggerated, I'm afraid." The knight frowned, seemingly lost in thought. "Melmond… You're from Duergar then? And you're…"

"…Not a dwarf, no." Berne finished the sentence for him. "It is a little known fact that Melmond has a majority human population- whom I represent. It can be thought of as a small piece of Cornelia in the midst of the dwarven west, or at least it could have been a scant few years ago."

"The earth rot." Garland nodded. "Is that why you're here?"

"Regrettably yes. This is a lively party, but I am on official business." Lord Berne took a sip of his red wine- which Garland thought looked a little thick. "I am here to see the king about emergency relief for western Duergar. My people are starving."

"Have there been any breakthroughs concerning the cause of the miasma?" The knight inquired, genuinely concerned. While Duergar's weakness was of no concern to him- in fact he welcomed it- the earth rot's spread showed now sign of slowing down. If it maintained its current pace it would reach western Cornelia in two years. What's more, dwarven scientists had noticed an acceleration in the rate of decay.

"I am afraid not, unfortunately." Berne sighed heavily. "'Tis a disaster of monumental proportions, what they don't tell you is that Melmond is regularly sacked by fiends during the night. Undead are everywhere. It is all we can do to keep our walls in one piece, let alone food in our stomachs."

"The Devil's Tail used to be among the most fertile regions in the world." Garland mused.

"Indeed, but the once verdant hills and forests are nothing more than barren wastes and toxic bogs now. I fear my people may be doomed." Berne smiled reassuringly. "But I don't see how this concerns an eastern knight like you. How are things here in Cornelia? The king plans to reunite his nation with the far east. This is most exciting."

Garland nodded. "Agreed. The far eastern lands are officially Cornelian territory anyway, but without the means to enforce them our laws mean nothing. By rebuilding the drawbridge our territory is virtually doubled."

Lord Berne chuckled softly. "The region between Pravoka and Cornelia is quite fertile, if memory serves. Perhaps the king plans to build agricultural colonies to compensate for what used to come out of my province?"

"It's hard to say exactly." Garland sipped his drink. "Just bringing order to Pravoka will be worth the effort, the piracy caused by our negligence is felt by your nation as well, my lord."

The orchestra concluded their song, and for a moment Sarah looked as if she wanted to do something else. Unfortunately for her, Count Sorel had other plans and didn't loosen his grip. She found herself in his embrace as a decidedly slower song began. Garland found it very difficult to suppress his anger; so difficult, in fact, he failed.

Berne's sick-looking eyes widened as the crystal glass shattered in Garland's mailed hand. Champagne dribbled down to the floor along with shards of broken glass. Fortunately for Garland, only Berne seemed to notice- the sound was drowned out by the music.

"May the gods spare me should I ever draw your ire, General." Berne mused, impressed.

"My apologies sir…"

The aristocrat smiled. "Nonsense, Wyrmkiller. You're young. It's as plain as a clear night that you want her- I must say I can certainly sympathize." Berne's smile became malicious. "The real question is: What are you going to do about that?"

Garland shrugged. "There's not a lot I can do, sir. Not without the king's blessing."

"Have you asked him?"

"…No."

"The implications of a love affair with the princess are grave indeed, General. You're the greatest knight in your kingdom, and being in bed with Lady Sarah makes you next in line for the throne should something happen to His Majesty."

"I'm aware of this." Garland said softly.

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance then." Berne spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "Not to brag, but I'm quite well-versed in the art of seduction. Many women and a few men have fallen before my charm. I'm sure with a few pointers you could make the princess love you too."

Garland locked gazes with the baron which made him uncomfortable. "She already does." He replied.

"Excellent!" Berne grinned. "Then the hard part is over. A secret love is the most exciting kind, in my opinion, but a shadowy affair with the princess will be bereft of the… additional perks of the relationship. You do want to be king, don't you?"

"Well there's that and the fact that if she ends up with someone like that foppish bastard, I'll need to be extremely careful. A love tryst that includes myself and the future king and queen does not appeal to me in the least. I'll probably be dispatched to the front of the Elven Civil War if Sorel becomes king." Garland turned away and tried to give his most reassuring smile. "But the king is in good health, he may yet have a son."

"I must confess these monarchies seem a bit uncouth to me." Berne sipped his wine. "My understanding of your customs is admittedly very lacking, but should the king die is the decision not Lady Sarah's?"

"It is." Garland nodded. "The king's blessing certainly couldn't hurt though."

"We come back to seduction then." Berne replied. "The corridors of power are wrought with those who would sabotage you, General. If you want to remain on top you'll need more than your past deeds and Sarah's love to keep you there- lest people like _him_ should usurp your position. Seduction, my friend."

"What would you suggest then, Raxle?" Garland found it foolish to put his trust in this acquaintance but the smug grin on Anton's face and the king's tirade from the other day were fresh on his mind. He was desperate.

Berne's smile disappeared. "That depends on what you are willing to do, Wyrmkiller. Think carefully before you answer. Treason is treason, but betrayal goes both ways. Would the king betray his own daughter by disregarding her wishes? Would the king betray you, after everything you've done for your kingdom but for a few unfortunate mishaps? I suppose before I answer your question you must answer mine. Would you really be willing to serve under anyone other than the current king?"

Garland nodded. "Yes, should the queen bear a son."

Berne shook his head. "No, I mean are you willing to serve under a suitor of Sarah's that is _not you?_"

"…No." Garland's response was barely a whisper.

Raxle hissed. "And what are you willing to do to keep that from happening?"

"Whatever is necessary." Garland couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth. They bordered on treason, but for some reason he just didn't care. He had enough of politics, of being a figurehead. He had enough of keeping his love for Sarah secret. The thought of serving under an adulterous lecher that was her husband in name only made him ill. _Raxle's right._ He thought. _I need to start looking out for myself from now on._ He shuddered as Berne put his arm around him in what should have been a friendly gesture, but seemed more than a little possessive.

"And so you must seduce the king then." Berne whispered. "You must use everything under your command; your nobility, your knighthood, the Army itself if necessary. Leverage it against your foes and maintain your dominance in His Majesty's court! Seduction, Wyrmkiller. Seduction. There are many kinds."

"What you suggest seems more akin to rape." Garland's knees felt weak.

"I haven't suggested anything yet." Berne released the knight and smiled. "Should you fail I have something that will help keep you on top, I-"

"Lord Berne? The king will see you know." A knight appeared and snapped a smart salute to Garland before hustling off.

"Another time then, General." Berne cracked his knuckles. "You must seduce the king into seeing you as his ideal successor. I, on the other hand, must seduce him into seeing my people through the coming winter." He bowed gracefully. "Adieu."

"Where can I find you?" Garland called as the man strode towards the king's chamber.

"Don't worry. I'll find you." Berne didn't even look back.

* * *

The cool night air was refreshing. Garland walked toward the balcony rail and leaned against it; gazing out at the city he was born and raised in. It was bright for how late it was, the full moon beamed down on the city of countless lights. Despite all of the illumination thousands upon thousands of stars could be seen in detail. They glittered like gems and spanned the full spectrum of size and color. Meteorites streaked and exploded in the cloudless sky. The knight sighed; the vista was so serene, so peaceful, so _boring_. 

The monotony of the last few weeks following the skirmish in the strait was wearing on him. He wasn't born to attend parties and schmooze with nobles. He did not attend the academy to sign orders and reorganize the city watch. He did not master swordsmanship to stand guard as the Royal Corps of Engineers rebuilt the drawbridge. While the serenity of the balcony was a welcome change from the stifling ball inside, it was still leagues from where he wanted to be. Garland was a knight, a warrior. His place was on the battlefield, personally leading the Army on crusades to bring glory to the greatest nation in the world.

He allowed himself a faint smile. He could get used to the throne room too, but he wouldn't be an invalid like the current king. Administrating the kingdom and collecting tributes could be handled by the chancellor- which would certainly be someone new. He had no intention of maintaining the current advisory council. No, someone more like-minded than Rhenquist would be chancellor. Garland would be known as the general-king. He would lead the largest army in Cornelian history to unprecedented glory. Duergar and Elfheim would cower before its might and the nation's sphere of influence would expand to include the northern continents. Although the other nations were in a vastly weakened state Cornelia still lacked the manpower necessary for a comprehensive conquest. Conscripts would be needed.

Garland shook his head violently. What was he thinking? This was no time to indulge himself in fantasies of conquest and a seat on the throne that may never actually be. Chancellor Rhenquist called them 'delusions of grandeur' and as it stood, under these circumstances, Garland had to agree. He was the Field Marshal, the Grand General, the highest ranking knight in all of Cornelia; but he was still just a knight- and one with a career that was in a very bad way. The only things he had going for him were his popularity with the people and Sarah's love for him. He never dreamed knighthood would be like this. As a squire he trained in the sword and dabbled in white magic; always believing that he would be sent to vanquish fiends and protect his people. The politics and intrigue of His Majesty's court were distasteful to him, as was the fact that he had grown quite accustomed to them in recent months.

No, this was a dangerous time for him. He had to maintain focus. Raxle Berne's words from earlier that night echoed in his mind. He had many enemies, he could not maintain his passive-aggressive attitude and remain first-in-line for the throne. Above all, _above all_, he had to repair his shattered reputation before the king. 'Seduction'. What did it mean to seduce the king? Berne said that Garland would have to convince the king that his ideal successor is him and him alone. It was simple in concept, but the implications of the process were mind boggling. Garland knew what he had to do, but he had no idea _how_ to do it. He would need Berne's help, that much was clear. The man seemed more than willing to offer it as well. Garland suppressed a shudder. How could he trust a man he had only met, and briefly at that. He didn't just trust Berne with his reputation and career, depending on the man's true plans Garland's very _life_ could be at stake. Why? How could it come to this?

Garland had never feared death. He had put his life on the line countless times; against fiends, against dragons and against pirates. War did not frighten him, but somehow the idea of hanging for high treason terrified him. No, he was a knight. He could not abandon his oath of chivalry so lightly. His ascension would be a legitimate one. A _coup_ would be a last resort. Last resorts. Berne mentioned something about a contingency plan. What could it possibly be? Failing to convince the king of his ideal nature was a very real possibility- especially in light of the recent 'mishaps' as Berne called them. What then? How could he possibly-

"There you are!" Princess Sarah Til Cornelias stepped out onto the starlit balcony. Her green hair shimmered in the moonlight, as did her resplendent gown and diamond-studded tiara. She was, in short, the most beautiful creature Garland had ever seen. "What are you doing out here? I wanted to dance with you!" She approached him and kissed him gently. "Is something wrong?"

"Not at all, Sarah." He tried to smile reassuringly, but her eyes told him the attempt had failed.

She clasped her fingers around his, the chain mail gauntlets made it awkward. "Is it about Anton? You know I want nothing to do with him. The man is crass, arrogant and just… Ugh! It took forever to get away from him."

The knight chuckled nervously. "That's not it. I mean, there's no problem Sarah, really. Parties just aren't all that enjoyable to me. I came out here to get some fresh air, away from all the pomp and noise."

Sarah turned to gaze out at the stars. She put her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulders- gingerly, as the big metal spikes made that maneuver awkward as well. "It is nice out here, Siegfried. When I was a little girl I always used to gaze up at the stars. Did you know that the ancient Lufenians counted and named every one? The names have since been lost, of course, but they had telescopes far more sophisticated than ours. They could see stars we cannot see now. You know what else?"

"No, what?" Garland said indulgently.

"My tutor told me that each star is a sun- just like the one that burns in our own sky. Our world spins around the sun, so there must be other worlds like ours around the distant stars! Isn't that amazing?"

The knight frowned. "So there may be people in those worlds looking into their night sky… and our sun appears but a tiny yellow pinpoint to them? Fascinating."

"This world is vast, Siegfried. Full of wonders. The heavens, however, are apparently infinite. The Sky People, the Lufenians, they reached for the stars… and just before their civilization fell… they're rumored to have touched them." She was quiet for a few moments. "It's truly sad that their achievements are lost. I would _so_ love to fly, among the clouds, among the stars…"

"The Golden Age of the Sky People proves what humans are truly capable of." Garland nodded, mostly to himself. "Gods willing, we may again one day rule the skies."

"How is it that birds and insects fly, Siegfried? Is it magic? Almost everyone I talk to says no, because only monsters and people can use magic. Of course things like dragons use magic to fly, but if mundane things like birds can take flight, why couldn't a machine?" She looked down into the castle courtyard briefly. "There has to be a way…"

He turned to her. "Why are you so preoccupied with this, Love?"

"…Oh, I'm just bored, really. Hours of talking to Anton- by 'talking' I really mean 'listening to him brag about boring drivel'- and then making the obligatory rounds to: Lord So-And-So of Wherever and Lady What's-Her-Face from Who Cares. You're always interesting to talk to, Siegfried. That is, in the rare event we get to talk like this." She tightened their embrace. "It's nice."

It was nice. Garland stood there and held his fiancé, gazing at the moon, the stars and the city. He was consumed by infatuation, and he didn't care. This was too perfect. He wouldn't change a single thing about it- or would he?

"Sarah?" He said softly. "Is this enough for you?"

She loosened her grip. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you satisfied with me? With what we have together? I mean… Actually, I don't know what I mean. Do you ever want something… something more?"

She gazed into his eyes and kissed him. It was a long, deep kiss and when she was done she merely smiled at him. "I thought you would never ask. Where do you want to do it?"

Garland blushed. What was she? Oh, _that_. That wasn't quite what he had in mind, but since he had no idea exactly what he had in mind, he decided it was sufficient. "I… I love you." He stammered.

She kissed him again. "I love you too, you know that. Gods willing we can find a place to express it in ways that words cannot. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting this."

"Me too, but…" He turned away from her, looking out over the cityscape again.

"But what?"

He sighed. "Sarah, I'll be honest. I'm worried. I'm worried about my future, about _our_ future. Don't for a moment think I only want you to get to the throne-"

"I don't think that!"

"Let me finish." He sighed again. "But if I don't become king, and you don't get a brother…"

"If I don't get a brother you DO become king, Siegfried."

"I'm afraid not, unless…" He turned and looked into her eyes. She met his gaze with one of intense confusion and mild apprehension. "Unless I _fix_ things. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"

"I think so…"

"Just promise me." He took her hands in his. "Promise me you'll be with me, you'll stay with me, no matter what happens."

"I promise." She said solemnly.

Garland smiled. "Good." He kissed her. "That's all I needed to hear. I can take the rest from this point on. With you by my side, nothing can stop me." He glanced briefly at the Light Crystal that hung on a silver chain around her neck. "So… did you have someplace in mind?"

She grinned mischievously. "The stables. To the stables! Now, General!"

"Yes, Milady." He bowed and walked away.

* * *

Garland steeled himself as he lifted the latch to the king's private study. Rain and wind buffeted the far window and lightning flashed as the knight stepped inside. The king sat at his massive oak desk, scribbling on a parchment with his quill pen. He didn't look up to acknowledge Garland as he closed the door behind him. 

"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" Thunder from the previous, and apparently distant, lightning flash rattled the window.

"General." The king still didn't look up, he merely pointed to one of the chairs with his pen. "Have a seat."

As the king continued to scribble Garland grabbed a far chair and hauled it up to the desk. He glanced about the room nervously for a moment before sitting down. His bulky armor made it a tight fit. The king continued to write whatever it was he was writing, and left Garland in silence for what seemed like forever. The only sounds to be heard was the thunderstorm, the scribbling pen and the clock on the far wall. Garland had a very, _very_ bad feeling about this.

He had been in the library researching some very basic white magic when Chancellor Rehnquist approached him. The chancellor seemed ecstatic when he told him the king demanded his presence. The knight knew Rehnquist enough to know that he virtually had a slipknot about his neck at that moment. Berne's words from last night seemed hollow and meaningless as the king sat before him. Garland could never remember a time he was so intimidated by the potentate.

The king finally spoke up. "Did you sleep well?" The king was never one for small talk, and the implications of that question frightened what little color remained in Garland's face. _He couldn't! How?_

"V- very well, Sire. Thank you." He stammered.

The king of Cornelia had apparently finished whatever document he was composing. He returned the quill to the ink well and looked up at the knight. His smile was bereft of any real warmth whatsoever. "Glad to hear it. _While_ you were sleeping, there was an incident in the city."

"An incident?"

"Yes." The king's fake smile disappeared. "Is the name 'Otis Bartz' familiar to you at all?"

Garland nodded. "An ex-pirate. Formally Captain Bikke's second in command. He was the informant that told us Black Beard's fleet would be in the Northern Strait. It was because of him we were able to set up that ambush."

"So your mind is not completely defunct, then." The king looked down at his hands. "Were you aware he was, until recently, living in Cornelia City?"

Garland nodded again. "Asylum was one of the terms we negotiated with him. We-"

The king cut him off. "Next question: Why was I not aware that a dangerous criminal was living in the upper-class part of town under guard by Army forces?"

The knight's confusion was intense. "It was my understanding that these were the arrangements we agreed on."

The king pounded the desk with his fist. "We NEVER deal with criminals like that! You of all people! We had the intel! There was no reason to make good on our end of the bargain! You stepped _far_ beyond your authority there, General. This is the last straw!"

Garland still had no idea what was going on. "Your Majesty, I felt that if we followed through with the arrangements, it would serve as an example to any insiders we dealt with in the future. Criminals would be more willing-"

"Spare me your mindless, self-important drivel, Garland." The king hissed. "What's come over you lately? It's as if you're going out of your way to undermine me and use the authority I give you to do the opposite of what I would do!" The king leaned across his desk to get closer to Garland's face. "Last night the mansion you provided to Bartz was destroyed. Apparently Bikke was well aware of who tipped us off. Intelligence tells me there was a _sizable_ price on the man's head. Well, you got your wish. He was hit."

"D-Destroyed?" The knight's voice was far from stable.

The king shrugged. "The city watch tells me it was black magic. Very advanced black magic. Fire elemental. Bartz' mansion was incinerated instantly. A charred skeleton inside matches the dimensions of his description. He's dead, but so are the six knights you provided to be his personal bodyguards."

Siegfried Garland swallowed. His throat felt like it was filled with rocks and he wanted nothing more than to fall on his sword at that moment. "Who?" He whispered.

"We don't know. We haven't had a black archmage since you were promoted, so it's obviously a foreign job. The only vague suspects are dark elven guerillas, but why they would have any interest in Bartz is unknown. Dark elves are religious zealots, not mercenaries. They live on top of more wealth than they'll ever need. The fact is, we don't know who did this. Whoever it was, they were an _extremely_ powerful sorcerer, and a very thorough hitman. Several hundred thousand gil richer now, no doubt. He or she left no trace, but I wouldn't exactly call it a 'clean' job, at any rate."

Garland hung his head.

"Which brings me to my favorite part of your latest and, I daresay, greatest _faux pas_. The blast was so intense that it took out the neighboring houses. Sixteen innocent men, women and children died last night because of you. Another half dozen are missing and still unaccounted for. These weren't just peasants, either. They were nobles. _Nobles!_ Many of whom were descended from bloodlines several ranks above your own!"

Even if Garland had anything to say, he couldn't say it. His face was on fire and his vision blurred. His throat had constricted into a tiny hole through which he could barely breathe. The malaise he suffered from was several orders of magnitude greater than the one he had felt when he realized he accidentally killed Admiral Roethke. It was over. It was _all_ over. Not even Berne could save him now- assuming he had been able to save him anyway. Everything that went through Garland's mind last night seemed like a fit of drunken delirium now. Reality came crashing down on top of him, and it was all he could do to keep from being crushed by it.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The king demanded.

"I- I have nothing to say." Garland wheezed.

His Majesty snorted. "I thought as much. Chancellor Rehnquist recommended you hang, but that seems a bit excessive for a hero like you- even if you are an _artificial_ hero I created with my daughter's crystal. No, I still have use for you, Garland. You're an exemplary swordsman, and you have academy training. I spoke with Ambassador Ulara of Elfheim last night. They gain no ground against the dark elves, and they requested military assistance. We're publicly neutral in their civil war, of course, so I won't be mobilizing a large force to assist them. I did pledge assistance, however, but until this morning I was at a loss for _how_ to help them. I now have my answer, and your punishment. You're going to Elfheim. They will use you as they see fit. If you want to return to Cornelia, I suggest you fight very hard. Hopefully, for your sake, there will be a new king on the throne by then."

The king stood. "Siegfried Garland, in light of your transgressions and incompetence in service to the Crown, I am revoking your rank and hereby relieve you of command of the Cornelian Royal Army. You will retain your knighthood, but you will never again serve as an officer. Gather your belongings, you leave for Elfheim in the morning. Now, get out of my sight." The king sat back down and brought out a new sheet of parchment.

Garland didn't say a word. He stood and exited the room. As he stomped down he hall towards his wing of the castle his despair and anxiety gave in to rage. Wordless, thoughtless, white-hot rage. He couldn't put his anger into words if he tried. He felt betrayed, he felt lots of things, but love of king and country was no longer among them. His mailed fists were clenched so tightly he couldn't feel his fingers. He couldn't see through the tears that streamed down his face as he passed soldiers, scholars and courtesans who did their best to act like they didn't see him. He rounded a corner and collided with some scholarly-looking fool. Garland shoved him aside and kept on walking. Bystanders started murmuring nervously amongst themselves as the ex-Field Marshal passed.

Finally, he reached the door to his quarters. He grappled with the latch- awkwardly, as his fingers were still without feeling. His room was pitch dark inside. For some reason the maid must have left the curtains drawn. He didn't care. Slamming the door behind him as hard as he could, he heard the hinges slip out of their mounts. In the oppressive darkness of his room Garland screamed. He screamed and sobbed. His ravings were punctuated by invisible thunder that rattled the windows. The knight went down to his knees, then sat on the polished marble floor. Jerking his gauntlets off he finally tended to his raw face with his bare hands. Garland's mind tumbled between rage and despair, until the two coalesced into a third, unique emotion: Hatred.

A shadow on the far wall suddenly came to life. "I told you I would find you." Berne's voice echoed in the spacious apartment.

"Berne?" Garland's voice was hoarse. "Is that you? How did you get in here?" He stood to his feet and strained to see anything in the darkness. All he could make out was a humanoid shadow.

The shadow blithely raised a hand and made a dismissive gesture. Suddenly the fireplace and every candle in the room came to life in response to Berne's signal. In the flickering firelight Garland could make out Berne's pale face clearly. His eyes were bloodshot, but his face held the most genuine look of sympathy Garland had ever seen. "Are you ready to claim the throne?"

Garland laughed bitterly as he sat down on the edge of his bed, shaking his head violently. "It's over. I'm barely a knight, let alone a general. I'm being sent far away, I may never come back." He suppressed another sobbing fit. "It's over."

"No." Berne extended his hand. "It's just beginning. We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation last night, Wyrmkiller. I have prepared for this possibility, as unfortunate and unthinkable as it may be. I am sorry to see you cast out like yesterday's garbage, but the king has sealed his fate. Join me, and your ascension is all but assured." His red eyes narrowed. "As is the king's demise."

"I can't." Garland gagged. "I can't do anything. I just want to die."

"In your current condition, yes, I don't doubt it. You are suffering from the philosophical shortcomings of conventional knighthood. You are trained to be the perfect footman, the perfect defender, the perfect _pawn_." He leaned forward, still holding his arm out expectantly. "May I see your sword?"

Garland stood and unsheathed his blade. It gleamed in the firelight, a steel longsword. Nothing special, very ornate, but without the Light Crystal it was just an ordinary sword. He handed it to Berne, who held it like it might defile him.

Berne wrinkled his nose. "This is not the sword of a conqueror."

The knight didn't say anything, he merely sat back down on his bed. Berne stepped back and tested the blade, his look of distaste did not waiver. "This is the sword of a _pawn_, the sword of a lowly lapdog. You… you must master the dark sword."

Garland shuddered. Dark knights were outcast fighters who combined swordsmanship with dark magic. Dark magic was not to be confused with black magic, although it was technically a kind of black magic. The arts of the dark sword were forbidden in Cornelia, and for good reason. The evil power dark knights possessed was beyond imagination, but they had no control over that power. As they mastered the art the art mastered them, and they became consumed by darkness. In short, the dark knight was the opposite of everything Garland had trained to be thus far. It promised unparalleled power, but at the cost of his very soul.

"I could never…" Garland's voice trailed off.

"Hmm?" Berne looked at him cockeyed. "Never train in the dark arts? Why not, Wyrmkiller? What have you got to lose? Although your circumstances are unfortunate, I agree, they actually make matters of securing the throne _so much_ easier. Seduction is useful, I will be the first to admit, and damned _satisfying_…"

Thunder rumbled across the sky.

"…But when you can take what you want by sheer _force_ it seems so frivolous. I was going to teach you how to convince the king to give you his throne. Now it appears I will teach you how to take it from him. Again, it's unfortunate that it has come to this, but it's so much easier this way, believe me." He turned to look into Garland's blank, expressionless face. "Take the princess."

"What?"

"Sarah is yours. You love her, she loves you. Don't let anyone stand in the way of that. The king has betrayed you, Garland. The king has betrayed _her_. If you won't do it for yourself, and you won't do it for me, then do it for her! Do you think she wants to marry that Sorel prig? Do you think she wants to see her valiant knight sent away to die in a foreign war?" He tested the sword once more. "Those who resist change will be left behind. The moon is setting on His Majesty, and the reign of Wyrmkiller Garland and Queen Sarah approaches. Soon the whole world will know your might! I know what you need to get you there! I know where you can find it! Take it, I entreat you!"

Garland was silent for a long time. "…What do I need?"

Berne bared his unspeakably white teeth in a malicious looking smile. "I told you. The princess. Take the princess. She is the protector of the kingdom's most powerful treasures. You have tasted the Fifth Crystal's power before, haven't you? If you wield it again, nothing can stop you." The tall man stroked his chin. "And, if you get the Lute, nothing can even get to you."

"Sarah's Lute? The hereditary treasure bestowed to each princess? What does that have to do with anything?"

Berne turned toward the fireplace. "It is an enchanted instrument. I am sure you know something of magical songs, yes? It is how bards can take to the battlefield without being eaten alive. This one is special, however. It is tied to the Fifth Crystal's power."

"The Light Crystal?" Garland asked.

Berne hissed. "No! The _Fifth Crystal_. There are four prime elements, I wouldn't expect you to know this, because you've only trained in white magic. White magic is almost exclusively light-based. Black magic, on the other hand, runs the spectrum of the elements. The four prime elements; earth, fire, wind and water govern the two secondary elements; ice and lightning. These six are, in turn, governed by the two transcendental elements; light and darkness. Light and darkness are in eternal opposition, and both occupy the Fifth Crystal, but never at the same time. As you have observed, the Fifth Crystal is currently under the domain of light- incompatible with the powers you seek. You must take it back and reconfigure it. You must embrace the darkness that will give you power over all! Mundane AND magical!"

"But how?" Garland stood again. "I'm no mage, and as you pointed out I know nothing of black magic. How could I possibly re-align the crystal?"

Berne shook his head. "You don't need to be a mage, Garland. The crystals' power is extrinsic. It can be used by anyone. You've used it before, no? The knowledge is already there at your disposal. You merely have to summon it."

Garland nodded emphatically. "Very well. I will take the crystal, and the lute. What then?"

"Not just the artifacts!" Berne looked like he was suppressing a smile. "The princess! She is your true prize, those relics are just accessories. If you hold the princess, you won't even need a human army. The king will listen to your demands."

"You want me to hold the woman I love hostage?"

"Is there something particularly unscrupulous about that? You won't turn her over, of course, but it will keep the Army from hunting you down like a dog and killing you without hesitation." He gave in to his smile. "The king may even exchange the throne for his daughter's life. He doesn't know about you two, does he? He won't suspect you to be unwilling to terminate her life."

Garland nodded. "But what's to stop the Army from staging a rescue? Where could I go that's safe?"

"Well, you can't hide, that's for sure. You're a general, or at least you have the necessary experience. With an army of your own you could turn those ruins in the north into a makeshift stronghold."

The knight frowned. "The Chaos Shrine? What's there? And where in hell would I get an army of my own?"

"Where in hell, indeed." Berne smiled. "With the Fifth Crystal, you can summon fiends from the netherworld, and control those that already infest this world." He cleared his throat. "To answer your previous question, the Shrine holds ancient treasures that will be invaluable to your quest for dark knighthood."

Garland paced back and forth. "So I take Sarah, and her treasures, and go to the Chaos Shrine? There I command an army of fiends to protect myself and demand the king surrender the throne unto me?"

"Precisely." Berne answered. "It is so much simpler this way, don't you agree? And once you are there, your ascension to dark knighthood will be completed. The first step toward you becoming the conqueror you've always dreamed of!"

The knight stopped pacing. He nodded with conviction and resignation. "Very well. I will do what must be done, for Sarah's sake. For MY sake." He turned to Berne. "Taking Sarah will not be easy- even in the unlikely event that she chooses to come willingly."

Berne nodded towards the door. "Well, here she comes now. Your move." He returned the sword to Garland and opened the door to his closet, stepping inside as a knock sounded at the door. "Use the crystal's power to escape." He whispered. "I will join you when I can." The closet door closed silently.

"Siegfried?" Sarah's muffled voice sounded from outside. "Siegfried, are you there?"

"Come in." Garland answered coolly.

The door opened and Princess Sarah entered the room. Her face was red and streaked with tears. Two armed guards followed her inside and eyed Garland's drawn sword nervously.

"Siegfried I heard-" She stammered. "I heard terrible things. Father's not- I'm just so confused! What do we do?"

One of the guards spoke up. "Lady Sarah, you're not to have any physical contact with him." He turned to Garland. "Sir, I'm sorry to say this, but could you sheathe your blade? We don't want any trouble."

Sarah didn't let go. "I just want to say goodbye! Let me say goodbye!"

"You don't have to." Garland's voice was cold as ice. "I'm not going to Elfheim, and where I am going, you're coming with."

Sarah looked up at him. "What?"

The two soldiers looked at each other, and then at Garland as he firmly but gently spun her around to face them. They drew their sabers as he held his blade to her throat. "Siegfried, what? What are you?" She gasped.

Garland hushed her and smiled maliciously at the guards. "If you don't want any trouble, stand down. Sheathe YOUR blades and get the hell out of here. This doesn't need to concern you." He reached down and removed the Light Crystal from Sarah's neck.

"We can't do that, sir. Please, think this through rationally. You can't do this! Where would you go?" The soldier looked terrified, but resolute. "Let the princess go."

Garland sneered. "I have thought this through rationally, and I will go wherever I damn well please!" He pressed the cold steel of his longsword against the frail flesh of the girl's neck. "Now. Stand down, Sergeant!"

"You are under arrest, sir!" The sergeant turned toward the other guard. "Get reinforcements, now!"

Without warning Garland tossed Sarah onto his bed. He bellowed a war cry and charged for the guards, they held their sabers up defensively but they couldn't parry his larger weapon. In a few deft strokes they were cut down amidst a flurry of blood and cries.

"Garland!" Sarah screamed. "What are you doing? What's happening to you?" She leapt from the bed and backed into the corner as he approached. "Who _are_ you?"

He grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her feet. "I am who I've always been, Love. But now my loyalty lies with you. My loyalty lies with _us_. Your father is dead to me, and soon he will be dead in every sense of the word." He held up the crystal in his hand. It glittered with bluish-white light. "And with this, nothing can stop us." He smiled at her, it was an alien smile that strangely enough did not contrast with the bloody corpses on the floor. "Remember what we shared last night? Remember your promise? With you by my side, I can do anything. I will do anything for you."

"I- I didn't mean murder!" She sobbed.

"Hush. Soon this will all be a bad memory." He raised the crystal above his head and grasped it tightly. He grimaced as he focused. The bluish-white light faded and faded until the crystal went completely dark.

"What are you doing to it?" Sarah demanded.

Garland didn't answer. The crystal suddenly radiated a dark blue, almost violet light. Its radiance was far more subdued than it had been previously, but the power the crystal now emitted seemed to distort the very air around it. Purple, electric tendrils traveled from the crystal and ran up and down his arms. Garland smiled.

"You've corrupted it!" Sarah moaned.

Rushed footfalls could be heard outside. As a platoon of guards rounded the corner Garland held Sarah close, and held the Dark Crystal out to them. They drew their blades and chattered amongst themselves in confusion as they took in the grizzly scene.

Garland once again held his blade to Sarah's throat to keep them from immediately rushing him. He didn't want to waste more of his future minions than he had to. "Give the king a message." He called. "Tell them I have his daughter, and if he values her life he will abdicate the throne to me."

Without warning the radiation from the crystal expanded in a dark sphere that enveloped both Garland and Sarah. It warped all of time and space at that tiny focus point and shrank into nothingness. When the sphere had dissipated, both Garland and Sarah had vanished.


	15. Chapter 15: Arrival

"Ugh! We're _finally_ here!" Kelga yawned and stretched in the evening light as the three weary travelers approached Cornelia City's North Gate. "I never want to sleep in a tent again! Tonight we'll get a real bed and real food! Not monster meat and that nasty freaking candy you guys like for whatever reason."

Gilles came to a halt. "Something's not right."

That, in turn, stopped Kelga and Duane dead in their tracks. Duane wordlessly began taking in the scenery while Kelga glared at the black mage impatiently.

"What?" The thief demanded.

"North Gate is heavily fortified…" Duane observed. "Unusually so."

"Look." Gilles pointed toward the battlements at the top of the nearest tower. "Isn't that Cornelia's war banner?"

Kelga's demeanor became more serious, and Duane nodded- apparently lost in thought. "It is. Who could they be fighting? If the kingdom is at war with the elves or dwarves it is a recent development, because last I heard the only thing Cornelia was fighting were goblins and pirates."

"Does Cornelia recognize the goblin tribes as a sovereign nation?" The black mage asked.

Duane shook his head. "No, of course not. …Maybe there's been a rebellion?" The red mage suddenly looked very worried.

Kelga sighed. "The only way we're going to find out is if we get in there and ask some people. Come on."

He marched up towards the heavy iron gates mumbling to himself as the two mages followed hesitantly. The walls looked like they had been reinforced mere days ago, and the extra gateways seemed to be hastily installed. Despite all of the wicked trappings, only two- albeit heavily armored- soldiers stood guard. Kelga marched right up to the nearest guard and waved to him. The soldier nodded curtly, making no effort to hide his mistrust of the city's most recent arrivals.

"Hey there!" Kelga grinned amicably. "We're from Pravoka, we-"

"Pravoka?" The soldier cut him off. "How? Construction on the drawbridge has been suspended."

"We took the 'scenic route'." Gilles muttered.

The guard's eyes got wide. "Through Mt. Lariat? You guys must be regular adventurers then. Something I can help you with?"

"Yes, there is." Duane answered. "Because we've been in the wilderness so long we've been unable to keep up on current events on the Aldean. …We couldn't help but notice North Gate has been heavily fortified and the war banner flies…"

"In short, what's going on?" Kelga finished for him.

The soldier chuckled cynically. "What _isn't_ going on? General Garland has betrayed the crown and kidnapped the princess. He's holding her hostage behind an army of goblins and undead. His forces have been staging feints on outlying villages on a regular basis. It's all we can do to keep the city secure."

"A human controlling monsters?" Gilles was incredulous. "How?"

The guard shrugged. "We don't know. At first we didn't even know it was him. We just thought the goblins got a new leader as their attacks were _far_ more organized and effective than they've ever been. This came right after he snatched the princess right out from under His Majesty's nose."

"We just thought it was one hell of a coincidence." The other soldier interjected, crossing from his side of the archway.

The first guard nodded. "It took us quite a while to figure out it was the general. Our first clue came when whole platoons of walking skeletons razed a village to the northeast. Undead _never_ come this far south. They never cooperate with goblins either."

"What sorcery is this?" Duane whispered.

"So this ex-general is holding the princess hostage? What are his demands?" Kelga was noticeably intrigued.

The guard laughed. "Nothing less than the kingdom itself!" He shook his head. "The general has apparently gone mad. The palace is really tight-lipped about the actual abduction, but he can't possibly expect the king to just turn Cornelia over to him."

"So he's using her as a shield while he attempts to take it by force?" Gilles was staring at the ground.

The soldier shrugged again. "Maybe, but he's really going about it half-heartedly. Like I said, he probably has no plan at all. He's got to be mad."

"Still…" Duane mused. "If he can control fiends I wouldn't underestimate him. This could be very bad."

"It already is." The soldier nodded grimly.

"Well, thanks!" Kelga said. "You've been a great help!" He grabbed his two companions by the arms and began to drag them through the gate. He only needed to do so for a few strides before they began to follow of their own accord. "Well, that was interesting. What do we do first?" He shook his head while he blithely lifted the purse from a wealthy-looking passerby. "No, let's find an inn."

"Did you just-?" Duane's eyes were wide.

"There'll be none of that, child." Gilles' tone was totally unambiguous. "This isn't Pravoka. This city has a watch."

"Which means it's more of a challenge!" Kelga grinned mischievously. "I've been getting rusty picking pockets in Anarchy Land." His grin focused on Duane. "Besides, if I get caught Moneybags McFeatherhat will bail me out."

"I most certainly will NOT!" Duane crossed his arms indignantly.

Kelga pinched his cheeks. "Aww, you'd let me rot in a cell?"

"Just knock it off!" Gilles hissed. "We can track down Lukhan tomorrow. Let's find a place to eat and spend the night." His yellow eyes flared brightly as he turned to Kelga. "And there will be no _thievery_ from now on. You're a Light Warrior, remember? Start conducting yourself as one."

"Yes, Dad." Kelga fell into step behind the two mages as they wound their way through the crowded street. Cornelia City was the largest in the world. Its population was overwhelmingly human, and it symbolized the human race as well as the Cornelian nation. Just as Cornelians referred to Elfheim and Duergar as 'the elves' and 'the dwarves' respectively, Cornelia was often referred to as 'the humans' in foreign lands. The city, the nation and the race had been one and the same for four hundred years. Since recorded history began.

The layout of the town was in sharp contrast to that of Pravoka. Never mind the fact that Pravoka was in a hideous state of disrepair, the eastern port city was heavily paved and industrialized. Cornelia, on the other hand, for all its development sported statues, fountains and neatly manicured lawns. Lavish mansions rested among walls and were small castles themselves. Even the lower-class houses were well-kept; the only thing about them that even said 'lower-class' was their small size. Deciduous trees lined the streets, some growing up from the street. For all its grandeur though, the city was dwarfed by the hulking mountain of masonry that was Castle Cornelia. It was the largest and tallest structure in the world. The three had seen the spires of the palace long before they had glimpsed the city itself on the horizon. Having entered from the north end of the city, they were directly beneath it. All three of them felt like fleas.

Kelga whistled. "Hard to believe people could build something that big."

Duane chuckled. "Impressive isn't it? It doesn't seem that large from the inside however. Most of it is solid wall, and if I recall correctly it's sort of built atop a mountain that was itself walled in. You could say the architects cheated, in a way."

"That is still way too big to be someone's house." The thief almost tripped on something the way his neck was craned straight up.

"It doesn't just house the royal family, it houses government officials and the ranking officers of the military. Hundreds of people live and work there, but it's also built to be indestructible. Four hundred years ago dragon attacks were a major concern for all three nations. The city itself began within the warrens of that keep."

Gilles, who had been silent thus far spoke up. "If that fortress can repel dragon attacks, what hope does that Garland guy have of taking this city with ordinary fiends?"

"Didn't you pay attention?" Kelga chided, making a mental illness gesture. "The guy's insane."

The black mage shook his head. "I refuse to believe that someone who has the power to control fiends is just some two gil, crackpot revolutionary."

"It's not unheard of for people to negotiate with beastmen." Duane scratched the back of his head. "Goblins, ogres and a few other species have their own language and are intelligent enough to deal with. The results are rarely favorable however."

"I've never heard of a human leading a goblin army." Gilles muttered.

"Nor have I." The red mage frowned. "Controlling the undead is something altogether different."

"Necromancy." Gilles grunted quietly.

Duane nodded. "Outlawed in every nation, and for good reason. No, this ex-general is not to be trifled with. I fear for the kingdom."

"Why?" Kelga demanded. "Why is any of this our concern? So some necromancer made a pact with the goblin tribes in order to lay siege to the country. We're just here to learn about the crystals."

"Were you born this nonchalant, or was it a skill you had to develop?" The dark wizard's amber glare seemed to bore into the thief.

Kelga shrugged. "Meh, life's too short to worry about every little thing. Besides, when you're as fast and good looking as me, there's no situation you can't get out of." That hubris-laden answer did not seem to satisfy Gilles, so Kelga quickly changed the subject. "Hey Duane, you're from here, right? Why do we need to get an inn? Can't we just crash at your place?"

Duane's face became even more pale, if that were possible. "No! Absolutely not!"

"Issues." Kelga muttered. He pointed to a hostelry on the far end of the square. "Well, that place looks as good as any. Let's go, I'm starving."

As the three made their way towards the inn, their gaze returned to the ground. It was then they noticed something bizarre that had escaped their attention previously.

"Sure are a lot of guards around." The thief observed anxiously.

Duane cleared his throat. "I noticed that too…"

"Is that unusual?" Gilles asked.

Duane nodded. "Very. I can understand if they've instituted martial law, but they haven't. This insurrection is external, there's no unrest within the city itself. It's almost as if they're looking for something."

"Or some_one_." Kelga snorted. "Come on, let's get indoors. Guards give me the creeps." He opened the door and shuffled inside.

"They would." Gilles muttered as he followed the other two into the warm firelight. Inside the three promptly took seats at a large round table. A cute, blue-haired waitress shuffled up to them, a small chalk board in hand. She smiled at Kelga, all but ignoring the two mages.

"Can I take your order, handsome?"

Kelga seemed totally oblivious to the compliment. "What do you recommend? I've had nothing but dog meat, wild herbs and licorice for the last few days."

"Oh, you poor boy!" The waitress seemed genuinely concerned. Gilles rolled his eyes, but of course no one could see it. "The special is stuffed hen, brown rice and batagreens."

"Sounds good." Kelga cracked his knuckles. "I'll have hard mulsum to drink."

"Same here." Duane clucked.

"And you, sir?" She turned to Gilles.

"Yeah that's fine, but I just want some melon juice for a beverage."

"It'll be right out!" She winked to Kelga as she left, who didn't even seem to notice.

Duane stood. "I'll go reserve the rooms."

The two sat in silence, taking in the atmosphere for a few moments. Kelga finally spoke up. "So first thing tomorrow we find that Lukhan guy? Any idea where he'd be?"

Gilles nodded. "The church, of course."

The thief grinned. "I can hardly wait! Where do you think he'll send us?"

"How should I know?"

Kelga sighed. "You wouldn't, I'm just psyched. I mean, we're finally here! We're going to realize our destiny!"

"You honestly believe in that nonsense?"

"You don't?"

This time Gilles sighed. "Kelga, I'm speaking from experience here. I've studied time magic. Have you ever heard of time magic? It transcends both black and white magic. I will be the first to admit that black magic is a difficult subject, but it doesn't even _compare_ to time magic. It isn't just about elements and their correlations, it's about the very fabric of the universe itself, about concepts so complex our mortal minds can never hope to fully comprehend them."

"You can control time with magic?" Kelga was intrigued.

"Well, I myself can't- yet, but it is possible. Accelerate, decelerate, even stop time at a focus point. I don't understand the specifics, but the very force that holds the world together can be manipulated with time magic. It's actually a very new and exciting field."

"I'll say." Kelga nodded to the waitress as she set out the drinks. He popped the cork on his bottle and took a sip. "But what does this have to do with the Prophecy?"

Gilles snorted. "The Church sees time as a straight line, and the world as one singular continuum. This view, while not necessarily inaccurate, is overly-simplistic."

"How so?"

"Think of it this way: Time is only a straight line from our perspective. We live in the present, and the present world is exclusive to the past and the future. Likewise, time seems linear when you look at the past. You can't change the events of the past, and the present is merely the culmination of the past, so it follows that the future is similarly linear."

"Uh huh."

The wizard shook his head emphatically. "But it's a fallacy. White magic isn't about manipulating the laws of the universe to suit your ends; it's about borrowing the gods' power to bypass those laws. If the church wasn't so dogmatic they would see that time is more like…" He pointed to Kelga's chest. "…More like a zipper."

"A zipper?"

Gilles nodded. "A zipper. Only the past is linear. You have complete control over events in the present, and the future is full of infinite possibilities. Claiming to know the future is foolishness, and true clairvoyance is impossible. At best, prophecies can only show you a likely outcome. They probably only show you a _possible_ outcome, and at worst, they're totally useless."

"So you don't think we can save the world?"

"Of course we _can_ save the world... that is, assuming the world can be saved. By that, I mean if saving the world is indeed a possible outcome then of course we can save it. It just means our success is by no means guaranteed."

"That's kind of discouraging."

Gilles' eyes narrowed. "I find it liberating. Personally, I think the idea that our lives are on a set path from which we cannot deviate repulsive. THAT would be discouraging, if we weren't really in control over anything we do. That's what black magic is all about; control. It's the antithesis of white magic, in which you are controlled. Black magic is, in truth, far more compatible to a realistic view of the world. White magic is more about blind faith."

Kelga gestured toward the counter. "Duane uses both equally well."

Gilles nodded. "That he does, but at a heavy price. By embracing two philosophies that are so diametrically opposed he has to meld them into a unique, third philosophy to even make sense of the world. Hence the term 'red magic'. Regardless of what he'll tell you, there's no such thing- it's just the bastardization and blending of the two true schools. Because of his proficiency in both, he will never master either." He took a sip of his juice. "Here he comes now."

Duane sat down. "Sorry, we have to share a two-bed room. They were booked solid."

Gilles shrugged. "That would be a problem if I had any intention of sharing a bed. I can assure you I do not."

"Can you teach me black magic?" Kelga stuck to the topic.

Gilles balked at the request. "Hah! No, I'll never take on an apprentice. I don't have the patience to go through what my master went through with me. It's an extremely difficult subject."

"I can teach you." Duane spoke up. "Granted I'm not as well-versed in the field as my esteemed colleague here, but the basic spells shouldn't be too hard. Ninja train in them anyway."

Gilles chuckled viciously. At first Kelga and Duane thought he was sneering at the prospect of them studying his craft together, but they looked up and saw he was really laughing at the waitress trying to carry three plates at once.

"About damned time." The wizard muttered. "I'm starving."


	16. Chapter 16: Warriors, United

"What's taking so long?" Argus was making quite a racket as he paced back and forth on the polished marble floor of the Cornelian Grand Cathedral.

"Sage Lukahn is a busy man." Sarina replied, sitting calmly on a small, ornate, yet decidedly uncomfortable-looking bench. "As is the cardinal, for that matter. They have not yet verified our identities or the authenticity of the artifacts we carry. We can expect to be treated as commoners until they do."

"But you work here, don't you? Doesn't your position carry any open-access benefits or something?"

The healer smiled. "I am only an acolyte. There are literally _hundreds_ of us, Argus. There are even more freelance white mages not officially affiliated with the Church. While they get most of their support from the secular mages' guilds, they come here to give and receive counsel from time to time."

Argus stopped pacing and gazed up at the spacious chamber, taking special interest in the giant, stained glass windows that depicted the gods in all their ethereal majesty. Some gods looked humanoid, while many more resembled dragons or monsters- some were even demonic looking. Argus couldn't remember all of their names but he knew the big black dragon was Bahamut. He sighed impatiently. "How come they're so busy? There aren't any sermons going, there aren't any sick or injured about…"

"This isn't the only church in Cornelia, you know." Sarina shook her head. "It's the main Temple of Light for all of Cornelia. There are several smaller churches in this city alone, and hundreds spread throughout the rest of the nation. Cardinal Vias administrates them all. The secular Cornelian government relies heavily on the church as well, as it serves both the citizenry and the militia." Her back straightened reverently. "And I can't presume to know what Sage Lukahn does. Surely a man with such incredible wisdom as he is always occupied."

"He probably just sits on a cushion with his eyes closed smoking all day." He pointed to a window that depicted a vicious-looking, three-headed canine beast. "Isn't that Cerberus? I thought he was evil?"

Sarina shook her head. "That's a common misconception. Cerberus is a guardian, a warrior, honor-bound to follow those whom he has found himself in service to. Sometimes his masters are well-intentioned… other times… they're not."

"In dwarven mythology he's an archfiend of earth, in league with Echidna and Ahriman."

"Well, Echidna is his mother." Sarina replied. "She is definitely evil, and his duty to family complicates things from time to time." The white mage frowned. "I'm admittedly not well-versed in dwarven folklore, so I don't know where this business with Ahriman comes from. I've never heard it before."

Argus shrugged. "I never paid much attention either." He pointed to a pinkish, spiky, ghost-like monster. "And that's the father?"

Sarina nodded. "Typhon. To the layperson he's kind of morally ambiguous as well. Official doctrine describes him as being more random and chaotic than actively evil. He has a short temper and his retribution is… sloppy, but he's basically benign otherwise."

Footfalls echoed through the chamber and both travelers turned to take in the church's newest arrival. Sarina produced a fake smile. "Ah, you're early. How did your unspeakable act of murder go?"

"That was fast…" Argus murmured.

Maduin put his hands up defensively. "Murder? More like vigilante justice. I told you, the man was a pirate. I only kill people who deserve it."

The white mage's phony smile disappeared. "Only a court of law can decide who is worthy of death. All others must be killed in self defense."

The monk shrugged. "Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway, someone got to him before I could. The target was hit before we even arrived here." He frowned. "And I can assure you, Sarina, that I wouldn't have caused _nearly_ as much collateral damage had I been the one to take him out. Black magic is a very sloppy assassination method."

"Collateral damage?" Sarina looked worried. "How do you mean?"

"Whoever hit Bartz took out most of the entire city block with him. The fire spread to the neighboring houses and the knights are still cleaning up the rubble. There were even a few of your colleagues there, looking for survivors I imagine. It wasn't pretty."

"Gods…" Sarina whispered.

Argus whistled, impressed. "I hope we don't run into whoever did that."

"Same here." Maduin agreed. "It didn't take me long to figure out what happened, it's some of the biggest news in town- aside from the attempted coup they have going on, of course."

Sarina nodded. "General Garland. I must say I'm quite surprised by this turn of events. He didn't strike me as a bad man. Selfish and immature perhaps, but certainly not a traitor or a murderer. Certainly not a _necromancer_. No, I fear someone else is behind this crisis."

"Whoa." Argus butted in. "You've met Garland?"

"He was the officer in charge of that debacle north of here. You know, the one that destroyed your home town? I was to answer to him directly until the pirates were defeated. He seemed way too young to be a general. Brash, self-important and yet so insecure at the same time. Such malice still seems beyond him."

"Sarina's good at reading people." Argus explained.

"I know." Maduin grunted. "Oh, that's not all that's going on either. You guys are going to love this. Remember all those guards we saw on the way here? I found out who they're looking for." He grinned.

"Who?" Argus demanded.

"They're looking for _us_. The knights' most recent rescue attempt was an all-out failure. The king has apparently lost it. He's been going around claiming the Four Warriors of Light will come and save the princess for him. The soldiers are out in force looking for four crystal bearers."

Sarina shook her head angrily. "The nerve. Our mission is to restore light to the world and banish the monsters that ravage its surface. We are not tools of the king to make his problems go away." She stood, clenching her fists. "This is the kind of blind arrogance that gives the truly faithful a bad name. How can he just give up and expect us to swoop in and save his daughter for him? Ugh!"

Argus scoffed. "I bet if we'd known about this sooner we could have turned ourselves in to the guards and be getting down to business by now. Instead we came to them, are right under there noses and they're making us wait!"

Maduin sat down where Sarina was previously. "No, we need to see Lukahn. This business between the king and that ex-knight doesn't concern us." He frowned thoughtfully. "Besides, there's only two of you. Who knows where the other two are?"

"That's part of the reason we're here." Sarina replied. "We don't even know where to begin looking for the Fire and Wind Crystals."

"You don't just need the crystals." Maduin pointed out. "You need the crystal _bearers_."

"This is true." She nodded. "Hopefully the sage's wisdom can see us through. This is way over our heads."

The three turned toward the archway as another white mage appeared. It was the same one that greeted them upon their arrival and told them to wait here. He looked bored and impatient. "Crystal bearers? The cardinal will see you now." He announced dryly, turning and walking down the corridor he came from. "Follow me."

Maduin stood and followed Argus and Sarina as they fell into step behind him. The corridor was just as extravagant as the main entryway, but the ceiling was much shorter.

"Was Sage Lukahn unable to speak with us?" Sarina asked plaintively.

The male white mage snorted. "You might say that. Shortly after the princess was abducted he abruptly left the city. The ship he departed on was bound for Elfheim, but the last people to speak with him said he was babbling, incoherent. Mentioning something about finding the 'Crescent Moon'. In his absence, the king has begun to interpret the Prophecy in his own way. He believes the Four Warriors of Light will arrive to save the princess."

"Great, so he's not even here." Argus groaned.

"Cardinal Vias will be able to help us." Sarina reassured him.

The healer led the three travelers to a pair of heavy, wooden double doors. He opened the right hand door and held it open. The three stepped inside the cardinal's spacious and incredibly opulent office. The white mage that brought them to the room remained outside and closed the door behind them. Vias was an incredibly ancient looking man, his face was wrinkled and what little hair he had was white. Despite his obvious age he did not seem to be in want of health or vitality. He stood quickly and nodded as Sarina gracefully bowed before him. Argus and Maduin nervously took their places behind her and to her side. His robes were long and flowing. They were like Sarina's in that they sported the familiar white with red triangular borders- but that was where the similarities ended. While Sarina's cloak was practical, Vias' was luxuriant. It was bordered with gold and chains with all kinds of jewelry hung from his neck.

"Welcome home, Lady Sarina." Vias turned to her two male companions. "And welcome to you as well. You have my gratitude for seeing one of my most promising trainees safely to Cornelia." He crossed towards Argus and took his hand. "I am Cardinal Maximilian Vias, leader of the Cornelia Temple of Light and the kingdom's white archmage." He turned to Maduin and shook his hand. "Welcome to the city of dreams."

Sarina spoke up. "The warrior to your left is Argus Baron. He is the bearer of the Earth Crystal, and is a refugee of the disaster in the Northern Strait. He has no family, and has pledged his services to the cause of restoring light to the Four Crystals."

Vias turned back to Maduin. "And you, sir?"

"Maduin Vargas. I'm just an adventurer, here to help in any way I can."

The cardinal nodded. "Then you two must understand the gravity of the mission at hand."

Sarina jumped in again. "Your Holiness, I would like to formally apologize for the tardiness in my return to Cornelia." She gestured toward Argus. "But with respect, I felt the recovery of the Earth Crystal was vital enough to warrant such a diversion."

"No need to apologize, my young learner. The course of action you took was the correct one. You as well would seem to understand the importance of the task the gods have set before you. I am glad you finally realized the Light of the Sea was the Water Crystal."

"Y-you knew?"

Vias nodded. "Indeed I did. Several years ago I was very close to the archbishop of Onrac. I still am, but the current state of affairs prohibits efficient travel to and correspondence with the north western continent. I personally approved your inheritance of the Light after your status as the convent's valedictorian was recognized. I have great faith in you, child." He smiled pleasantly. "We all do."

"I am honored, Your Holiness."

The cardinal turned back to Argus. "And now, you are the bearer of the Earth Crystal. May I see it? I know for a fact that Sarina's Light is genuine, you must understand that I need to be sure that you too possess the real thing."

"Sure." Argus tugged on the silver chain around his neck, pulling the amber colored Earth Crystal out from under his platemail cuirass. He completely removed the chain and handed it to the white wizard. "Here you go."

Vias clutched the crystal reverently. "This is it." He whispered. "It is faded, just as I feared. The connection to the earth rot is undeniable, they must be related."

"That was our conclusion as well, sir." Sarina offered. "But how do we go about restoring light to these relics?"

"To even restore power to one, you need the power of all. Until we have all four crystals I am afraid there is nothing we can do." He handed the chain back to Argus. "The Fire and Wind Crystals remain at large, we must find them."

"Any idea where they might be?" Maduin was looking more than a little impatient.

"Unfortunately no. The Water Crystal was the only one in the Church's possession. We granted it to one worthy to bear the burden, and the gods have seen to it that the Earth Crystal has been paired with its bearer. We knew nothing of its location or the location of the Wind and Fire Crystals."

"Ugh! So what the hell do we do now?" Argus wailed.

"Mind your tongue, Argus!" Sarina scolded.

Vias waved dismissively. "No, no, it's quite all right. I understand your frustration- this crisis wears heavily on me as well. To tell the truth I had given up on seeing the coming of the Four in my lifetime. Lukahn had said they would not come for another two hundred years. I am no elf."

"So what do we do, sir?" Maduin repeated Argus' question.

"Have faith, child. Have faith. It is no mere trick of fate that brought you three together. The gods will see to it that you are united with the aeromancer and the pyromancer."

A knock came at the door.

"Enter." Vias answered, looking slightly annoyed.

The door opened and the white mage from earlier appeared. He bowed hastily to the cardinal. "Your Holiness, three more travelers have come, two of which also bear crystals."

Argus and Maduin looked at each other wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Sarina and Vias looked genuinely, albeit pleasantly, surprised. "Gods be praised!" Vias exclaimed. "Send them in at once, Etoh!" The white mage bowed and hurried away, not even closing the door behind him.

The cardinal held his hands together in a rather childish expression of pure glee. Sarina looked hopeful, but reserved. Maduin's face was one of raw incredulity. Argus just looked confused. Together they stood in silence for what seemed like forever while they waited for the new arrivals.

Etoh returned, followed in short order by a black mage, a red mage and a young man in light armor. He bowed to the cardinal again and saw himself out, closing the door behind him. The three new arrivals stood shoulder to shoulder, the red mage looked excited, the rogue looked nervous while the wizard's expression was, of course, totally unreadable.

"Welcome, welcome!" Vias shook the hands of the three young men. "I am Cardinal Maximilian Vias, leader of the Church in Cornelia and the nation's foremost white archmage. I am told you carry crystals, is this true?"

The boy and the black mage took a step forward, while the red mage took a step back. Both reached down and produced silver chains with crystals set in the pendant just like those of Argus and Sarina. The black mage's crystal was faded and green; the boy's, however, radiated a bright red light.

Maduin and Sarina gasped simultaneously. Argus just whistled, while Vias looked like he might bounce up and down. "By the gods!" He exclaimed. "It is! It is the two we've been looking for! We have all four!"

This statement seemed to catch the new arrivals off guard. The red mage stepped forward and bowed lightly. "My name is Duane Sorel, Your Holiness. The bearer of the Wind Crystal is the black mage Gilles Arkham." He gestured to the youngest of the three. "This is Kelga Vasquez, bearer of the Fire Crystal and the sole heir to the Vasquez Consortium."

Kelga waved nervously, while Gilles barely nodded. The red mage continued. "Pardon me for being bold, Cardinal, but did you just say you had all four?" He gestured toward the other three adventurers in the room. "I presume two of these three are also crystal bearers?"

Vias nodded. "They are." He took a step back. "Go on, introduce yourselves!"

Argus stepped forward and shook hands with Kelga and Gilles. "Argus Baron. I have the Earth Crystal. I'm a fighter. Uh, that's pretty much it."

He changed places with Sarina who bowed cordially. "Sarina Alexandra, white mage and bearer of the Water Crystal. I am so pleased to make your acquaintance!"

Maduin just stood there and nodded curtly. "Maduin Vargas, white monk. I'm their support."

"Ah, excellent!" Duane exclaimed. He strode up to Maduin and held his gloved hand out. "I was afraid I'd be the only one without a crystal! I'm their support, I suppose you could say. This is very reassuring, I must say six stand a far better chance than four!"

Maduin didn't move. He just looked the warlock up and down. "You ever see combat before?"

"Maduin!" Sarina yelled, she then turned to the newest three. "I'm terribly sorry, he's a bit uncouth. I, for one, am really looking forward to working together. Our chosen professions seem to compliment each other nicely."

"They do indeed." Vias almost giggled. "The king will be most pleased. Gah, to think his interpretation of the Prophecy was right all along!"

"…Excuse me, sir?" Sarina didn't like the sound of that.

The black mage spoke up for the first time. "Forgive me, 'Your Holiness' but what exactly does the king have to do with anything? We're here to learn about the crystals and do what we can to fulfill our duty as the Warriors of Light."

Vias' giddy demeanor evaporated. "And that duty, my dear heretic, is nothing less than restoring light to the world- and to banish darkness wherever it may lay. The king is desperate. He is convinced that the Warriors of Light and ONLY the Warriors of Light can save the princess. I am under strict orders to deliver you to the king."

"Whoa, there!" The thief exclaimed. "The princess' abduction has nothing to do with us! You don't honestly expect us to take on an army of goblins and undead, do you?"

"To say nothing of that necromancer." Despite his height, Duane was able to make himself seem very small.

The cardinal sighed. "I expect you to serve the cause of light. I don't know what exactly the king has in store for you six, but I expect nothing less than your full cooperation. Sage Lukahn has gone missing, he is the true expert on the darkness that plagues the world and the means by which to banish it." The white wizard smiled in mock reassurance. "Besides, this will only be a temporary diversion from your main mission. Had Garland remained loyal to the crown, I would have simply sent you north to speak with Lady Matoya. In case you haven't heard, reconstruction on the drawbridge spanning the Northern Strait has been suspended. If you stop Garland and rescue the princess I am sure the king will see to it that your journey is hastened."

"Bollocks." Gilles growled. "We came here through Mt. Lariat, we can leave through Mt. Lariat."

Vias grinned. "That part of the country is currently plagued by Garland's minions. Should you choose to take the _longer_ route you are fighting through the same army of goblins and undead you are trying to avoid in your cowardice."

Duane swallowed, tugging on his collar. "Your Holiness, I am not a Warrior of Light, nor is sir Vargas here. I cannot speak for the black belt, but I… I am under no obligation to serve whatever cause His Majesty has construed as being part of the greater struggle. It's not-"

"You will fight by their side, infidel." Vias motioned to Maduin. "So will he."

Maduin chuckled defiantly. "Bah, yeah right. Like the mage said, we're not Light Warriors, your orders are to deliver the _Light Warriors_ to the king. Again, Light Warriors, we're not."

"No, but you both have pledged yourselves to the cause." The wizard's smile disappeared as he glowered at Maduin. "I am close friends with Master Duncan of Ryukahn. Don't think for a moment I am unaware of the unpleasant circumstances in which you left that school…"

"You sleazy old bastard!" The monk was outraged.

Vias turned back to Duane. "And you. I'm sure your brother would absolutely _love_ to hear of your latest bout of cowardice. It's beginning to look like he may become king, and that would make Lady Sarah your future sister in-law." He looked genuinely contemptuous of the red mage. "Your lack of loyalty to your own family staggers me."

Gilles' shadowy voice was cold as ice. "Such extortion is quite unbecoming of a holy man."

The archmage snickered. "Heh, I'm being lectured in holiness by a practitioner of the dark arts. What's next?" He turned to Kelga. "I suppose the thief would like to lecture me on honesty and the sanctity of personal property!" He rounded his desk and sat down. "His Majesty will whip you six into shape yet. You must understand I only do what is necessary. I thought you understood the importance of the mission before you, but sadly I appear to have been mistaken. It is now clear that I must _make_ you understand how important you are to Cornelia. It is pointless to fight against your destiny, children. You might as well embrace it."

Without warning the double doors opened and two heavily armored knights entered the cardinal's office. "Ah, you're late." Vias cooed. "Escort these six valiant adventurers directly to Castle Cornelia. They are here to serve the king."

"Cardinal Vias, I must protest!" Sarina called out as the guards gently prodded her out the door with the other five. "Cardinal Vias!"

Vias smiled pleasantly as the door closed on them. "Restore the Crystals to grace, Sarina."


	17. Chapter 17: Compulsory Heroism

The huge, wooden double doors of Castle Cornelia's throne room opened wide. Through the archway strode two temple knights who fanned out to stand on either side of the doorway as six apprehensive-looking travelers entered. Once they were past the doorway the knights closed the doors behind them, dutifully seeing themselves out as they did so. The throne room was just as ornate and regal as one would expect, but despite the castle's size it wasn't all that large. On the larger of the two thrones sat His Royal Majesty King Cornelias VI, next to him his wife, the Queen Jayne. Off to the side a stood a shrewd-looking man. This was none other than Chancellor Rehnquist, the king's chief advisor. After having been abandoned by the two knights the white mage of the group had apparently assumed the point position. She closed to a respectful distance and removed her hood, bowing gracefully.

Both the king and queen smiled, but the king waved his hand, motioning Sarina and her comrades forward. "Closer, closer!" He grinned. "How long I have waited for this day. The Warriors of Light have come at last!"

The six would-be heroes stood shoulder to shoulder at an uncomfortably close distance to the throne. Aside from his diplomatic smile, the king's expression was mostly unreadable. The queen's grief-stricken face seemed to shine with hope, while the chancellor remained largely aloof, making no effort whatsoever to hide his skepticism.

Rehnquist turned to the king. "Your Majesty, we cannot be certain that these are the warriors foretold by the Prophecy. We will need… proof of some sort."

"Ah, yes." The king leaned forward. "I am told you come bearing crystals remarkably similar to the four elemental crystals described in Lukahn's Prophecy. This must at least be true if you've found your way here, but may I see them? The chancellor here is a very doubtful man, I'm afraid."

Rehnquist ignored the slight, frowning instead at four of the six as they stepped forward. The fighter in heavy armor, the fighter in light armor, the white mage and the black mage all produced ornate, silver chains with crystals set in the pendant. Three of the four were dull and faded, but the red one shimmered brightly.

The king gestured to the four as he addressed the chancellor, his tone patronizing. "Surely it is no coincidence that four warriors bearing crystals have appeared at our kingdom's darkest hour. It is just as the great sage foretold: 'When darkness veils the world, Four Warriors of Light shall come'. My daughter, the heir apparent to the throne of this very kingdom has been abducted. Fiends lay siege to our great city and murder innocent civilians outside her walls. Garland has somehow acquired untold power, we cannot defeat him ourselves, only the Warriors of Light can do this."

"Please…" Jayne pleaded. "Please bring my daughter, my Sarah, back to me safely. I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to her…"

The chancellor sighed, addressing the _de facto_ Light Warriors for the first time. "As you may or may not be aware, Garland, a knight once in His Majesty's service, has abducted Princess Sarah. I hereby request your assistance on behalf of His Majesty, the King of Cornelia. Garland has taken refuge in the Chaos Shrine, which lies to the northwest. The ruins have always been a nesting ground for monsters, including undead, but it has since been turned into a virtual fortress. Garland was the leader of the Cornelian Royal Army, so he is no stranger to military tactics. Again, as you may or may not know, he has somehow gained the ability to command the undead, and has forged an alliance with the newly unified goblin tribes. Both have joined forces to attack Cornelia, reaching the capitol itself on several occasions."

He extended a pointer and walked over to a giant map mounted on a large stand. The map depicted mainland Cornelia. Rehnquist pointed to a small point northwest of Cornelia City and motioned from there to the city itself. "We are, and have been since this began, on the defensive. We have staged several unsuccessful counter-attacks on the temple, but each has been forced to retreat. The goblins have untold numbers, although each individual fighter is weak. The undead are, of course, undead. While the bulk of Garland's forces engage the Royal Army south of Lariat, the shrine itself is relatively unprotected."

The king nodded. "A small, highly specialized group of elite adventurers- that's you- should have a much easier time getting to and infiltrating the shrine than any conventional force."

Rehnquist continued. "The Royal Archaeological Society has provided maps to the foyer of the Chaos Shrine, but we have no idea where the princess is being held. Also, Garland may have renovated the upper levels and basement floors of the shrine. Booby traps and other assorted security measures await you, as do Garland's minions. This is all in addition to the large array of monsters that normally nest there anyway." He smiled dryly. "If you ask me this is a suicide mission, but the king seems to believe you are the Four, so it shouldn't be anything you can't handle."

His Majesty nodded gravely. "This leaves the matter of Garland himself. Although he is obviously no longer the man I once knew, there is no reason to assume his abilities have similarly fallen from grace. Put simply, he was- and is, for that matter- the finest swordsman in the kingdom. We have none who can match him."

The chancellor put the pointer away and returned to his original position. "You set out at daybreak tomorrow, I leave the tactical details in your very capable hands. The Army has its hands full securing the homeland, and henceforward are mainly a diversion for your activities anyway, so don't expect any official support." He beamed. "Questions?"

"Uh, yeah. I have a question." Argus stepped forward, bowing slightly to the king. Sarina looked mortified. "What does all of this- any of this- have to do with our main mission? How will pulling this off work towards the goal of restoring the crystals?"

Gilles shuffled quietly to Argus' side, nodding in agreement. "I beg your pardon, sir, but we are not 'elite adventurers' as you say. I cannot speak for Mr. Baron or Ms. Alexandra here, as I have only _met_ them today, but I, for one, am no warrior." He spread his hands. "I am barely a full-fledged mage."

Kelga spoke up, but remained in place. "Your Majesty, I came here under the impression that we would be _trained_ to become Warriors of Light. We came here seeking the guidance of Sage Lukahn or whoever else might know something- anything- about these crystals." He looked more than a little worried. "I've seen some action before, you can be sure, but nothing like this."

"They're not ready." Maduin called from his place next to Duane, his arms crossed irreverently. "They came here to become Light Warriors, and they're treated like they already are. With all due respect, this is foolishness, Your Majesty. You're sending them out to die."

"It would appear, Sire…" Sarina mumbled, almost whispered. "…It would appear that we need some time to prepare."

Rehnquist muttered to no one, looking pleased. "For legendary heroes, they don't have a lot of confidence…"

The king merely sighed and nodded dotingly. "I understand your concern, brave warriors, but I am afraid time is something of which we have run out. To put it plainly you're our only hope, and to answer your previous question…" He shrugged. "Lukahn has left us for parts unknown. No one knows the Prophecy as intimately as he does- it is his, after all." He smiled in what was probably intended to be reassurance. "Lady Matoya, a master alchemist and a powerful witch lives the life of a hermit in the wilderness north of here. _Far_ to the north of here. She is the world's foremost expert on magical crystals, in possession of a particularly powerful one herself. If anyone can help you unlock the secrets of the artifacts you carry, it is her. Unfortunately…"

"Unfortunately what?" Argus seemed to forget he was talking to a king.

"Unfortunately, Garland's forces hold Lariat and we cannot complete the drawbridge spanning the northern strait at a time of war like this. The only other option would be by sea, but the only port in that region was recently destroyed in a skirmish with a pirate fleet."

"I know." Argus frowned. "That was my hometown."

"So basically," Kelga sighed. "We don't get to Matoya unless the bridge is finished, and you can't finish the bridge until Garland's siege is broken."

"Precisely." His Majesty nodded gravely. "So you see how Garland's betrayal is part of the greater darkness you are destined to defeat."

"I believe in you." Jayne said quietly. "You're our only hope…"

"Anything further?" Rehnquist stood expectantly. "No? Shall I see them to their rooms, Your Majesty?"

The king nodded. "You are dismissed. Go now, Warriors of Light, and do not fail me!"

* * *

The guard that had escorted them to their suite unlocked the door and held it open for them. "This way, please." He gestured inside as the guests shuffled through the doorway. Once they had all filed in the knight stood in the entrance and addressed the group. "I trust you'll find our accommodations to be satisfactory. Lady Sarina, I apologize, but due to security concerns you must remain with the group." He nodded curtly. "I shall come by to collect you in the morning. I would recommend you get some rest. Restore the Crystals to grace!" He saluted and shut the door behind him as he left. Not only did the door latch tightly, but it made an unsettling clicking sound. 

Argus ran up to the door and tugged on the latch. "It's locked!" He exclaimed. "They locked us in!"

"Nicest prison I've ever stayed in." Kelga joined Argus at the door and shooed him aside. "Let me take a look at this." He pulled a small metal tool out of his pocket and started probing the latch and hinges.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Maduin sat down on one of the luxuriant full-sized beds. "We're being sent to do what their army can't, and they still think they need to protect us."

"Their 'security concerns' are for their benefit, not ours." Gilles started spreading his belongings out on a small round table. "They're taking no chances. They don't want us going anywhere."

"This is ridiculous!" Argus fumed. "They can't do this! They _requested_ our help and now they're compelling us to save the princess?"

Maduin rolled his eyes. "That official 'request' was just a formality. It's like the mage says, they're not letting us go anywhere. Hell, they even blackmailed me and that guy in the funny hat into helping you out, and we don't even have any crystals!"

"My name is Duane, sir." The red mage had chosen a bed and started situating it to suit him.

Gilles sighed, setting up candles and runes in apparent preparation for some kind of ritual. "Politicians. I miss Gaia where all you had to deal with were a council of elders. This nonsense with an absolute autocrat and a white magic theocracy could get really old, really fast." He looked at Sarina cockeyed. "No offense, madam."

"None taken." Sarina was staring out the window at the city.

Kelga was in his element, apparently occupied at picking the lock. Argus gave up and took a seat at the table with Gilles. "You're a magician too, right? What's all this stuff?"

"Yes, I am a 'magician' and this would be magical stuff." His yellow eyes narrowed. "Black magic stuff."

"Good." Maduin muttered, laying back on the bed. "Now we'll have some real firepower, and I won't have to do all the work."

"Oh as if!" Argus shouted angrily. "I got Sarina all the way to Duergar before we even met you. I killed an _ogre_."

"Knock it off, you two!" Sarina didn't even turn around. "This isn't appropriate!"

Duane crossed to the center of the room and cleared his throat. "Since we're obviously not going anywhere, I think it would be a good idea if we got to know each other better. With a more comprehensive understanding of our comrades and their abilities we will be better suited to the task at hand. We can assign duties according to our specializations. First of all, we'll need a leader." He looked around the room. "Any suggestions? Volunteers?"

"Not it!" Kelga called from the door he was still trying to unlock.

Duane continued. "Our leader should probably be the most experienced, if not the oldest of our group. One with a keen grasp of tactics, a good amount of common sense and a knack for improvisation. In a traditional party such as ours the leadership position usually defaults to the warrior." He nodded to Argus. "Mr. Baron, do you have any formal military training?"

"Uh, no. Sorry. Self-taught."

"Anyone else?"

"Not interested." Gilles closed his eyes and started chanting. The runes and alchemical symbols on the table started to glow and Argus watched them intently.

"I'll do it." Maduin stared up at the ceiling. "I'm the most experienced fighter here, and I've taken on all kinds of missions before." He sat up. "I've been working as a mercenary, although I don't have any formal training I've got plenty of experience."

Duane nodded. "All right then, all in favor?"

Everyone in the room mumbled in agreement.

"It's settled then. Master Vargas I defer to you." Duane turned around and proceeded to sit down.

Maduin stood and stretched, then he cracked his knuckles. "Okay, from the look of things this is a _very_ well balanced group. We have four fighters and three magic users."

"Four and three make seven, Maduin." Argus apparently thought he was being clever.

"Do they really? Unless Duane here just likes dressing funny, I'm assuming he's a red mage. A warlock, a spellsword. In other words, he does both."

"Oh." Argus said quietly.

Maduin continued. "I've never been any good at magic, never had any desire to study magic, but don't think I don't respect it." He nodded. "I've seen what it's capable of first-hand. I'm good- that's not conceit, it's a fact- and Argus here is good, if a bit green." He gestured to Kelga, still probing the door. "He can probably hold his own in combat too, but my point is it doesn't matter how good we are. It's the magic that's going to make or break this group and get us through this mission. We will be relying on Gilles to blast stuff, Sarina to tend to our wounds and Duane to pick up the slack in both departments."

"My spells can be used aggressively against the undead." Sarina reminded him.

"Right, but you and Duane will be the healers of the group. In the most general sense, what the rest of us can't kill, Gilles will have to."

"So what are us three then?" Argus demanded. "Shields?"

Maduin flashed him a predatory grin. "No, _you_ are the shield. With that armor, and Sarina and Duane's enhancing magic you'll have the best chance of surviving what comes our way. In case you haven't noticed, the rest of us aren't all that heavily armored. In the case of Kelga and myself that's to retain mobility. The mages need to be able to focus."

Gilles chuckled quietly. "Basically, you run interference while I attack from a distance. Sarina will keep you alive in the meantime."

"Oh, sounds great." Argus swallowed.

"Kelga and I will be on offense." He turned to the thief. "Kelga, are you listening? I'm going to be your trick partner. Have you done that before?"

"Yeah, yeah. Go for the kidneys while I stab them in the back… Damn it, this freaking… They don't fool around."

"What about multiple foes?" Duane asked.

Maduin nodded. "Good question. If they're people or normal monsters you and Gilles put the extras to sleep so we can deal with them one at a time."

"Enfeebling magic is useless against the undead." Gilles pointed out.

"Not mine." Sarina added. "Garland can send all the undead he wants. Dia will be waiting."

"Good." Maduin scratched his head. "I think that about settles it, then. Of course, we'll be wanting to avoid combat whenever possible- especially once we get to the temple, but we need to be prepared anyway." He looked around the room. "How is everyone for equipment and supplies? Weapons okay?"

"You'd think…" Kelga grunted. "That they'd be giving us the best weapons and armor they have."

"Funny story there, Kelga." Duane muttered. "Four hundred years ago the founders of this kingdom built an armory on the lowest level for just that purpose. The first King of Cornelia stockpiled weapons and supplies for the Four Warriors of Light, as did the leaders of Elfheim and Duergar. The treasury was then sealed with powerful sorcery that cannot be dispelled, and the only key was entrusted to the elven royal family."

"How is that funny?" Argus asked.

"It's not, really, unless you find bitter irony amusing. The current guardian of the key has been under a curse for the last five years. Only he knows its location and he is unable to wake."

"Still, you'd think they could give us stuff better than what WE have." Kelga's frustration with the lock was starting to show.

Gilles shook his head, impressed. "I must say this is a very economical move on the part of His Majesty. Sit on your duff and wait for a group of legendary heroes to assassinate your nemesis and rescue your daughter. All you have to do is finish building the bridge you were going to build anyway."

"Hah!" Maduin scoffed. "I don't remember them saying anything about killing Garland, do you? They seemed to indicate we were in trouble if we ran into him. Personally, I don't have any intentions of Garland knowing we were there until the princess is already safe in her bed back here."

"That would be ideal." Sarina agreed.

Gilles nodded. "I agree, but the bridge cannot be completed until peace has been restored to the kingdom. Unless the would-be usurper is removed, I don't see how that can happen."

"Mm, I do." Duane mused. "With his hostage gone, the good general loses most if not all of his bid for the kingdom. He can't take the city by force or he would have done so already, his plan seems to be to force the king to abdicate out of desperation. A plan that seems to be working, I might add. After all, _we_ are his only hope. Think about that for a moment. Not to say we can't do this, but the threat posed by this ex-knight is obviously greater than we originally feared… as is his reliance on the princess."

"So it's decided then." Maduin said. "We bypass Garland completely if possible. Without better info I'm afraid the rest will have to be made up as we go…" He scratched his head. "Um, I can't really think of anything else. Duane?"

Duane shrugged. "Manipulating the power of the Crystals, perhaps?"

Kelga finally gave up with the lock. "I have the only active one, remember? I've been messing with it the whole way here from Pravoka and still haven't been able to do anything with it. It just glows."

"What powers are supposed to be granted by the Fire Crystal, anyway?" Sarina queried.

"Manipulation of fire, obviously." Gilles stated. "General pyromancy on par with fire elemental black magic. I really don't know why the boy hasn't been able to use it."

"What have you been trying to do, Kelga?" The white mage asked gently.

"Uh, I really won't know where to start. I'm not a mage. I don't know Divine or Hermetic and there's not even a spell to chant if I did…"

"I told you it's not a spell!" Gilles interjected.

"Er, right. I still don't know how to work with it."

Sarina frowned. "Has it had any… side effects? Has exposure to the Crystal been doing anything out of the ordinary? Other than glowing?"

Kelga shook his head. "No, nothing."

"No nightmares?"

"…No."

"Nightmares?" Gilles was visibly surprised.

"Have you been having them?"

"…I have."

"What about?"

"I'd rather not say." Gilles scratched under the brim of his hat. "Suffice to say that they're disturbing, to say the least."

Sarina turned to Argus. "Have you had any since you got your Crystal back?"

"Not since I got it back, but quite a few back in the day."

Sarina was silent for a moment. "So it appears that only the faded Crystals cause nightmares in their bearers. The Fire Crystal appears to be untouched by whatever affliction is corrupting the other three." She shook her head. "I don't understand."

"It doesn't matter." Gilles continued. "What's important is that it _should_ work, but Kelga can't get it to for some reason. I can't think of a reason why."

Kelga just stood there staring at the shimmering crystal while the other five erupted into speculation. Moreover, only Sarina, Gilles and Duane were really speculating. Argus and Maduin just tried to keep up with the increasingly technical conversation. Eventually Sarina and Gilles got into an argument that was over even Duane's head. This debate continued until it was interrupted by sound of flames.

"Uh, guys?" Kelga was still standing there, dumbfounded. Only now the Crystal was glowing more brightly than ever and fire was being emitted from his clenched fists. He didn't appear to be harmed by the flames. "I think I got it." He made a gesture and dispelled the effect.

"Can you do it again?" Gilles didn't appear all that hopeful.

Kelga closed his eyes and focused. The Crystal flashed and a circular wall of fire enveloped him. He opened his eyes and smiled briefly before the combustion dissipated. "Now I know I got it. Okay, I'm ready for anything."

"Didn't even burn the carpet…" Argus whistled, impressed.

"So, how did you do it?" Maduin demanded.

Kelga frowned. "It's hard to say exactly, so I won't. I can't. It's really more like a wellspring of knowledge I tap into than any real power I wield myself. Like I said, hard to explain."

Gilles nodded. "Like I expected. Well, now this is progress. Now all we have to do is light the other three, however it is we do that."

"That's up to that witch, remember?" Maduin laid back down. "That's a long ways off yet, we've got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow. Let's get some rest."


	18. Chapter 18: Dark Knighthood

Cold rain trickled down through the cracks in the ceiling. The icy water droplets woke Sarah from her dreamless sleep. What day was it? She had lost all track of time. Hours meshed into days which may have meshed into weeks. She had no idea how long she'd been in the cold, drafty cell. It seemed like forever, but it also seemed like yesterday she was safe and comfortable at Castle Cornelia. She sniffed, having caught cold over the last few days. No, her time back home seemed more like a fond dream than something that actually ever happened. She looked up at the gray clouds through the gaps in the dilapidated shrine. She hated this place. It was a temple built to honor evil, destruction and disorder. It was now a citadel from which a monster she used to love plotted his revenge.

She scooted back against the wall, out of the rain. It was an awkward maneuver with all her chains, but she still managed it. The rattling of her shackles woke one of the werewolves that slumbered in front of the entrance to her cell. It resembled an ordinary dog, albeit quite large with sick-looking green fur and red glowing eyes. There were two of them on guard in front of Sarah's cell. Yellow, viscous, disease-laden saliva dripped from their ivory fangs. How the goblins could tame such a beast was beyond her. Maybe it was only because the goblins were beasts themselves. Satisfied that it was only its charge, the wolf laid back down and closed its eyes. For a moment she thought she heard the werewolves growling, but she then realized it was her own stomach. The princess couldn't remember the last time she had eaten, although she had been fed here. The goblins brought her stale bead, gruel and vegetable broth from time to time. It didn't satisfy.

Sarah had spent a lot of time crying since her arrival. The first few hours (or was it days?) were literally a nonstop orgy of sobbing. Now, she couldn't summon the urge to cry anymore. Her outraged despair had given in to detached depression. The only thing really on her mind now was her physical discomfort. Her hunger, her cold, her infirmity. How she longed for the luxuries, nay, the necessities of civilization. She was sure she would die out here.

The heavy iron door to the dungeon opened and both monsters were on their feet, snarling. The short, disproportionate shadow cast into the gloom told her the visitor was a goblin. Two tall, deathlike shadows flanked the new arrival, a couple of the animated skeletons used as guards here. Both werewolves caught the scent of the visitor and promptly sat down in deference. It wasn't an ordinary goblin guard, this heavily armored fiend had guards of his own. As he rounded the corner Sarah's suspicions were confirmed. This was the goblin tribal leader, a warlord, a foul creature known only as Knocker.

The goblin waddled right up to the iron bars and grasped them. He smiled at Sarah, baring his disgusting teeth. "HelLO, PrinCESS!" Sarah didn't answer. "HOW are you feeLING? HunGRY?"

"A-" Sarah coughed and cleared her sore throat. She didn't have much of a voice. "A little. Why do they send their leader to do what guards have been doing so far?"

Knocker exhaled sharply. The sound was similar to a groan but the disconcerting smile on his face didn't leave. Sarah decided it was a goblin expression, wholly unreadable. "GARland wishes to DINE with you, PrinCESS. You are the guest of HONOR at this banQUET. A BANquet in CELebraTION of our conQUEST of CORneliA!"

"So the city has fallen?" Sarah's hands were numb, and not from the cold.

Knocker made the sound again. "No… not YET. The king is DESperATE. He has not attacked the shrine RECENTly. Pigeons bring news that he wishes to neGOTiATE!"

"Father…" Sarah's worst fears bubbled up from the depths of her psyche. The king didn't react rationally when he was attacked personally. At first she didn't think he would ever abdicate the throne to insure her safety, but now…

The goblin cackled. "You will SEE him soon, PrinCESS. Before GARland runs him THROUGH and takes his CROWN!" He drew a heavy set of iron keys and unlocked the cell. The two skeletons entered first and took their positions on either side of the doorway before he entered. Knocker hobbled up to where Sarah sat and unlocked her chains. "Come on THEN, PrinCESS!"

Sarah slowly stood to her feet. She was weak and queasy. She couldn't remember the last time she stood. She took a moment to stretch; a moment before one of the skeletons prodded her to follow Knocker, who was already heading out of the dungeon. She limped after him.

"Come ON!"

"I'm coming!" Sarah was careful to give the werewolves a wide berth. They snarled at her menacingly as she passed. The main corridor of the dungeon was in a decidedly better state of repair than the cells themselves. Once, thousands of years ago, this place was as beautiful and well kept as the Temple of Light in Cornelia; with almost as many followers. The only difference was the gods worshiped here were at the opposite end of the moral spectrum. The cult that practiced here had no Common name, and their Hermetic name translated into the curious oxymoron that was the Order of Chaos. They predated the birth of Cornelia as a nation. They predated the fall of the Lufenian Civilization. They were often inaccurately credited with the first organized effort to study black magic, a feat the elven sorcerers of old were truly responsible for. According to the Royal Archaeological Society, the shrine was mysteriously abandoned some four hundred years ago. This coincided with the fall of the Sky People and the birth of Cornelia as the new nation of humans. Four hundred years ago was, by all historical accounts, when monsters first appeared. They had spread and multiplied vigorously in the last four centuries. No one knew how or why.

"SOON, PrinCESS. SOON." Knocker cackled. "GARland will be KING of CorNElia and you will be his QUEEN. Won't that be NICE?"

Sarah didn't answer. She had known this was Garland's intent since that fateful day this all began. That seemed so long ago. It was only because of her behavior, her refusal to 'behave' herself that she was even thrown in the dungeon. He seemed to believe he was doing her a favor, and that his barbarous actions changed nothing between them. When she renounced her love for him he became angry, and seemed genuinely disappointed. How could he honestly expect her to condone his actions? He was insane, it was as simple as that. It hurt her deeply to see the man she loved fall to such depths, but it was clear that the man she loved was _gone_. The knight Siegfried, had been replaced by a hideous archfiend. His anger and hatred had corrupted the Light Crystal, and he declared his intentions to study the arts of the dark sword. No, her fiancé was gone. Her lover, her friend, her protector was no more. In his place was some dark knight doppelganger who would stop at nothing to accomplish his goal. That goal being nothing less than world domination. Some of her previous guards were goblins recycled in from the front. They bragged about sacking an entire village. The man she loved would never order such a heinous act.

"It is pointLESS to resist, PrinCESS. Why fight it when you can be at his SIDE? Don't you want to RULE? Don't you want to RULE with POWER? Real POWER? TRUE power?"

"It doesn't matter what I want anymore. I'll die before I let father exchange the kingdom for my life."

Knocker growled. "YOU will come aROUND, PrinCESS. Soon, you will SEE things HIS WAY. We ALL will."

"Why do you follow him, anyway? Why would the tribes obey a human?"

"RACIST HUME! RaCIST huMANS! Unlike YOU, we don't CARE about BLOOD. We CARE about lOYalty and huMILity before the GODS. GarLAND is the one we've been WAITING for. The one DEStined to lead our people to victorY. HIS WILL is the WILL of the GODS, PrinCESS. This is what we were creATED FOR! To serve the bringER of DARKNESS!"

"All fiends were created to serve some prophesied warrior of darkness? Are you sure it's not just the influence of his Crystal over your minds?"

"SILENCE! The CrysTAL he bears is PROOF that he is the ONE! With it, he will CRUSH the FOUR Warriors of LIGHT. Victory will BE ours!"

The Four Warriors of Light? Of course, it made perfect sense. As a member of her father's court, Sarah knew the primary purpose of Lukahn's Prophecy. The legend that four heroes bearing Crystals would restore the world and banish the monsters was a boon for morale among the poor, uneducated masses. While her father seemed to genuinely believe in it, as did most of the Church, the upper echelons of nobility regarded it as a myth. As did most of the secular intelligentsia of all three nations. It stood to reason that the monsters would have their own version. A version wherein the bearer of the corrupted Light Crystal defeated the other four and brought victory to the fiends. But what was victory for these monsters? Victory was probably world conquest, and subjugation of the enlightened peoples. In their relatively short history the goblins, ogres, sahagin and assorted other beastmen had developed an extremely hostile relationship with all three nations. While Sarah still struggled to grasp their willingness to accept this "bringer of darkness" as a human it may just have been their ideal. After all, what better irony, what better final insult than to have a human be his own race's undoing? Or maybe Knocker was right, maybe goblins didn't care what you were, as long as you were on their side. He would know best, after all. What with being a goblin and all.

Knocker led Sarah and the two skeletons to a pair of double doors that looked recently installed. The goblin warlord strained to reach the latch and opened one of the two doors. He bowed cordially to the princess and gestured for her to enter. The banquet hall was the most solid looking room she had seen yet. The roof did not leak, the pillars were all intact and the polished stone floor wasn't missing any tiles. A long marble table was the room's dominant feature. While the table had sufficient seating for nearly two dozen people, there were only five present- counting Sarah and Knocker. Garland sat at the head of the table. Once Sarah entered he stood and strode up to her. He was wearing a new suit of heavy armor. The darksteel platemail was adorned with studs, spikes and arcane symbols. His new attire fit well with the corrupted Crystal which hung around his neck. While impressive, his new armor bore a striking resemblance to that of a dark knight. Sarah was sure this was the look he was going for. Before she could resist, he snatched her hand and knelt to kiss it.

"It's good to see you again, love. I hope it's no longer necessary to keep you in that drafty old cell." He turned and gestured toward the table. Knocker took his seat next to one of the other dinner guests- a broody looking dark elf. To her shock and chagrin, Sarah actually recognized one of the guests; a pale but attractive red haired man. She knew him as Lord Raxle Berne of Melmond. The implications of this did not bode well. What was an ambassador of Duergar doing among Cornelian rebels? Did Duergar have a stake in Garland's coup? Did Garland have an alliance with the dark elves?

Garland smiled. "You must be hungry, Sarah. Come, have a seat." He led her to the seat next to Berne's- to the right of his. "Allow me to introduce our first of hopefully many allies." Garland nodded to the armored goblin. "You have already met Boss Knocker. He is the undisputed leader of the goblin tribes. He assures me that the ogres and sahagin are also willing to cooperate with us. The creatures you call monsters were willing to live in peace all along. All we had to do was reach out to them. The dark elf on Knocker's left is His Royal Majesty King Astos I. He is the leader of West Elfheim and has pledged his support to our cause."

Astos stood and grinned at the princess. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness. Unfortunate that we had to meet under these circumstances. Although, now that the war has finally reached your doorstep, so to speak, you humans may be better able to understand the plight of my people." He sat back down, his clear eye glittered brightly. "I sense much strength in you, child. You will make a fine empress."

Garland pointed across the table from Astos. "You have already met Lord Berne. He practically owns the city of Melmond, and by extension governs most of that dwarven province. The earth rot has devastated his homeland, and your father did not see fit to assist. My reign will not be such a selfish one, I assure you."

Berne stood and bowed gracefully to Sarah. "We meet again, Lady Sarah." He smiled. "I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you I want only the best for my people. While Cornelia and western Duergar have been and still are very much allies, General Garland here represents a much needed change in your nation that I feel will be very beneficial to all." He took his seat again. "In a world with so many problems, we needn't fight with the 'monsters' as you call them. The corrupt monarchies of Cornelia and Elfheim must be deposed, for the benefit of all, you understand."

Garland sat back down at the head of the table. "Have a seat, Sarah." Once she did so Garland clapped his mailed hands and skeletal wait staff entered from another room. They came bearing platters of food and bottles of drink the likes of which Sarah hadn't seen since she left home. While she was repulsed by the idea of dining with these would-be usurpers, her stomach overrode her indignation. The moment one of the animated corpses placed a plate before her, she hungrily dug in. Garland smiled.

"There now, my love. This is how it should be. I don't want to treat you like a captive, but you leave me no other choice. This is a dark time for you, don't think I don't understand that. It is a dark time for all of us. Don't you see how this is for the best? I had hoped to bring about the necessary changes peacefully, but your father had other plans. Once you and I assume our place on the throne we will bring peace and order to the greater Aldean. The goblins are no longer our enemy, and we can bring about an end to this long and bloody civil war in Elfheim. The people of Melmond needn't starve any longer, Sarah."

Sarah didn't answer, she didn't want to. Not even looking up she stuffed her face with food to avoid eye contact with the monsters around her. Not just the literal monsters like Knocker and the skeletons, but the wicked fiends of the human and elven variety also present. Did Garland think he could actually sway her with this nonsense? Peace and order? Such hypocrisy! Even now the goblins were raiding Cornelian villages, murdering innocent civilians. Sarah knew for a fact that the dark elves employed similar tactics in West Elfheim. No, what was gathered here were the most powerful, disenfranchised creatures on the Aldean. The goblins saw Garland as their savior, Berne was probably desperate for any aid he could get. If that meant supporting a coup then so be it. Astos' presence was unexpected, but not surprising. In the Elven Civil War, Cornelia was neutral in name only. It was an open secret that the nation supported East Elfheim. The dark elves had every reason to want Garland's coup to succeed.

Once Sarah finished her plate Garland poured her a drink. He then poured himself a drink and passed the bottle on. Once everyone's goblet was full he stood. "I propose a toast. To a new era, an era of peace and prosperity. Not just for one nation, or one race, but to the entire world and all its inhabitants! Together, we will accomplish what none of us could do alone! To unity!"

"To unity!" The delegates answered in unison. Everyone drank their wine but Sarah. She felt ill, having eaten too fast. Attending a banquet celebrating the impending defeat of Cornelia didn't help matters much either. What was she going to do? Was it true that her father was about to capitulate? She decided there was only one way to find out.

"So…" She stammered. "Has my father responded to the demands?"

"Yes, love. The poor fool has finally realized he can't take you back by force. Oh how it must irritate him not to have what he wants! No, in his desperation he has negotiated a cessation of hostilities. It's a start. Of course, I will not rest until you and I are king and queen, but without me the Royal Army cannot break the siege. His Majesty is running out of options."

Astos growled. "I must applaud your tactics, General. This kind of guerilla warfare has proven very effective in the south. The regular army is in disarray trying to protect the outlying villages. Trade routes to the capitol are thus disrupted."

Berne seemed to sense Sarah's dismay at the talk of slaughtered civilians. "Gentlemen," he interjected. "Such talk is more appropriate for the war room, don't you agree? This is a happy occasion. We wouldn't want to upset the princess."

Garland nodded gravely while Astos took another drink. Knocker apparently ignored Berne's not-so-subtle hint. "A VERY hapPY ocCASion, my lord." He squealed with delight. "FINaLY the humes taste their own mediCINE!" He cackled gleefully at Sarah. "NOW you must KNOW what it is LIKE for your people to BE exterminATED like VERmin!"

"That's enough." Garland's voice was soft but firm.

"Yes, my LORD."

Sarah stared at her empty plate, trying to keep her food down. The bile in her mouth and the tears in her eyes made it difficult. "Garland…" She wheezed. "Please, you must stop this. I can understand your anger, but this isn't the way! Run away! Far away! If you don't want to serve my father then leave Cornelia. Take me with you if you must but please, stop this war! I beg you!"

Garland hung his head. The other delegates watched their leader quietly, anxiously. "No, my love. I cannot. It is too late, I am in too deep already. I know this must all come as quite a shock to you, but you know I have always felt that the ends justify the means. Our empire will be the greatest since that of the Sky People. We will bring peace, prosperity and order to the Aldean. No, not just the Aldean, but the entire world!"

"You would start a war in the name of peace? You would bring about a recession in the name of prosperity? You would destabilize the entire continent in the name of order? Do you even hear yourself, Garland? You're insane!" She shook her head. "No, you're not just mad, you're something else. That Crystal has corrupted you. You've become the very monster you sought to destroy, and ended up leading their army! Is your mind so clouded with your lust for revenge that you cannot think of anything else? What happened to your oath of chivalry? How are you protecting Cornelia by attacking it?"

"Quiet." Garland didn't look up.

"No, Siegfried! I won't be quiet! My father crossed the line, there's no doubt there. But you have gone so far beyond an appropriate response I can't help but question your sanity! You conduct yourself like this and you have the gall to think of yourself as the better leader? You would sacrifice your own citizens like pawns in some petty squabble?"

"Be _quiet_, Sarah."

The princess stood. "Kill me. If you want to keep me from speaking my mind that is the only way. I can't believe I ever loved you, Garland. You're a monster, and until the day you're defeated there won't be a day that goes by that I won't remind you of what you've become! I will _never_ rule by your side. You will have to find another 'queen' to share your usurped throne with." Tears were streaming down her face. "If you really want to silence me, then run me through! It's the only way!"

Garland stood. "No, Princess. It isn't." He stretched his hand out towards her. The Dark Crystal glowed malevolently, as did the symbols on his new armor. A dark aura shot out from his outstretched hand and enveloped her. She gasped as she collapsed back into the chair, paralyzed. Her eyes were open, but she couldn't move. She was completely aware, but was as still as death. Garland whirled around to hide his face from his companions, who sat in stunned silence. He picked up a heavy, long horned darksteel helm with a full-face mask and put it on. It was very clearly part of the complete armor set. Once he regained his composure he turned to face the table. He waved to the two skeletons in the corner.

"Take her to the Crystal Chamber. She'll see things our way soon enough. Well then, gentlemen. This is the event you've all been waiting for. Lord Berne, your suspicions were correct. The excavation of the lower levels was most productive. While I didn't uncover the Masamune, I may have uncovered the vault to a far more desirable weapon. I think I may have discovered the resting place of Ragnarok."


	19. Chapter 19: Through the Woods

The Atmori Woods lay in a fertile valley at the base of two separate mountain ranges. Good roads led northwest from Cornelia City into the forest, where they split- going east to Mt. Lariat and west towards the Horkavir Mountains. The Horkavir Range was the route Argus and Sarina had taken to Duergar over a month ago. The Earthgift Shrine, a sacred place for the dwarves, was situated in a cavern at the base of those mountains. Lariat, on the other hand, was the only overland route to Pravoka and, until recently, Prontera. However, no roads continued north, and that's where the Warriors of Light wanted to go. North through the Atmori to the Leinhoffen Swamp, and further still to the Gytmori Woods and the Chaos Shrine beyond.

Once they passed that fork- the scene of a recent skirmish between the knights and goblins- they were in hostile territory. While Garland's siege of Cornelia had brought the goblin and undead army to the city's gates on several occasions, the king had staged an offensive to coincide with the Warriors' journey. The grassy plains between Cornelia and the Atmori were easy enough to secure, but the knights could only take Atmori as far as the roads went. All of their steel, mythril and gunpowder did little to help them when the entire swampy forest came alive and attacked them. Goblins knew this territory well. After all, it was more theirs than it was Cornelia's. The goblins were the ones who lived and multiplied here, and they could stage deadly ambushes in the thick foliage and treacherous swamps of the region.

The six were now in virgin, unbroken forest and were making little progress. They had been attacked by wolves several times on their journey already, but nakk were the least of their concerns in this dark wood. While the bulk of Garland's forces were engaging the Royal Army in southern Atmori and on the plains, there were plenty of sentry patrols about. Not only were the goblins familiar with this territory, they had 'improved' it, in a sense. Lethal pitfall traps and snares were everywhere. While the Light Warriors had managed to avoid the hazards so far, they came across the remains of several knights who didn't. The goblins themselves had keen senses of hearing, vision and smell- and so did their warg wolf pets. The six counted themselves very lucky to have made it this far unmolested, but none of them were arrogant enough to think that their luck would hold.

Kelga, who was acting as pathfinder, came to an abrupt halt. Although he raised his hand to signal his comrades to do the same, he didn't have to. They had long since been conditioned to stop when he did. He turned to the other five and motioned for them to get down, he then dove into the ferns- where his leaf-green clothing hid him remarkably well. The other five were not so well camouflaged, and so hid behind trees as quickly and quietly as they could. Argus had the most awkward time, as he was arguably the least stealthy of them all. The Warriors nervously peeked from their hiding places to see what had spooked Kelga so.

Eight goblins marched by, single-file. They wore light, leather armor and it seemed to be a uniform of some sort. The guard in the lead wore a blue tunic and cap while the other seven wore yellow-green. The leader chattered away in the shrill and obnoxious goblin tongue, and the other seven repeated what he said. It seemed to be a cadence call. As the platoon passed, Kelga stood and gave the all-clear signal. This was not the first patrol they had encountered, and as they got deeper into Garland's territory it certainly wouldn't be their last. Fortunately, Kelga's highly tuned senses and reflexes had allowed the group to avoid every one.

As the six prepared to resume their journey another goblin burst from the undergrowth, chasing after the others. It was a straggler, a goblin that got separated somehow and was now rushing to reunite with his squad. The hasty fiend blundered right into the Light Warriors' formation- catching them completely off guard. Unfortunately for the goblin, he was just as surprised. The fiend skidded to a halt in wide-eyed terror and started to emit a high-pitched, barking cry. The goblin's call was cut short as the beast was struck with a flying kick from Maduin. The little imp's body careened through the air and crashed against a tree in a most unhealthy looking position. When the goblin hit the ground, it didn't get up.

"_Think they heard?"_ Argus whispered as he moved in front of Sarina, getting a better grip on his already drawn broadsword. Kelga and Maduin both nodded as they also took their places in front of the mages. Duane stepped forward to join the front row, drawing his rapier as he did so. Sarina began casting Protect as quietly as the incantation would allow- bestowing the magical shield on Argus. The surly black mage grumbled to himself quietly- the air grew chilly as he was apparently preparing to cast Blizzard. Kelga pointed his now drawn scimitar towards a point in the bushes. Everyone strained to see what he was pointing at, but couldn't. At least they knew what direction the attack would be coming from. They shifted their formation accordingly.

Suddenly three goblin footmen charged out of the foliage, their wicked-looking daggers drawn. They were daggers only to a full grown human. In proportion to the goblins, they were more like shortswords. With his shield raised and his sword held high, Argus dashed forward to meet them. Instead of attacking him, they flanked him. Two on his right and one to his left. Argus broke to the right, attempting to engage one fiend while holding the other's attention. Duane dashed forward with a quick thrust that impaled the goblin that came in from the left. The heavily armored warrior bellowed a war cry as he beheaded one of the two he was fighting. The other charged right for him. While any sane creature would have been terrified, Argus' provocation incensed it, rather than intimidating it. This, however, was the entire point of his strategy. By keeping all attention on him, he kept the unarmored mages safe.

Guarding the mages was what Kelga and Maduin were doing while the two swordsmen were up front. Four more gobs and their boss had yet to show themselves, and with all the noise Kelga couldn't detect them. Sensing his confusion and frustration while she meditated quietly, Sarina began extending her focus. The sickening sound of Argus running his goblin through became faint and distant as her spiritual sight moved outward and upward; scanning the forest for the lost monsters. _There!_ She gasped as she sensed their location. Two were coming from the rear right, another two from the rear left, and the vanguard coming straight at them from behind.

"Boys! Behind us!" She wheeled around and started casting Protect, this time on herself. Argus and Duane closed ranks just as the remainder of the platoon showed themselves. Kelga didn't hesitate. The first goblin out of the bushes was greeted by a throwing knife to the face. The one following it abruptly turned to ice and shattered as Gilles finally discharged his spell. Three to go. The guard appeared and charged with his two subordinates on either side of him. Argus and Duane rushed the two footmen, dispatching them with equal ease- but different style. While Duane elegantly ran his goblin through Argus brutally cleaved his in half.

Unfazed, the goblin guard continued his charge- that is, until Kelga's motion became an impossible green blur. Once the imp found himself without a weapon, he looked less eager to attack and more willing to retreat. Too late. Maduin charged and dove head-first towards the little monster, his legs wide open after his jump. As he passed directly over the goblin he snagged its head between his knees. Both the human and the imp came down with a crash, but Maduin had positioned himself so the goblin's back would absorb all of the impact. With the impish vanguard's vertebrae shattered, and the crisis passed, he stood up and brushed himself off.

"Show off." Sarina chided good-naturedly as she holstered her cudgel, relief washing over her pretty face. Any fight that ended without needing a Cure was a good fight in her book.

Maduin nodded back at her. "Nice job Sarina. You too Vasquez. The rest of you… The rest of you need some work."

"What the hell?" Argus yelled. "That was perfect!"

"No, it wasn't." The monk countered. "You're the defender. Mind telling me why you rushed out to meet an obvious feint? Leaving the real attackers to guard the mages? If it wasn't for your yelling two of those first three would have breezed right by you."

"I…" Argus' face was red, and he broke gazes with the black belt.

"With four fighters we have some liberties available when engaging large numbers of weak monsters." Duane offered.

"Yeah, but you're no fighter. Your fencing is impressive, don't get me wrong, but we would have been better served by you standing back and casting Sleep or something. That's what we agreed on for crowd control, remember?"

"Oh… Yes, well-"

"Swordsmanship or no, you're still a mage. And if you're not using magic, you aren't fighting at your best."

"And what, pray tell, was wrong with my performance, Mr. Vargas?" Gilles' voice was neutral, but still scary as hell.

"Don't use your strongest spells on the weakest target. You used that Blizzard on the weaker goblin while the elite guard was still out there. Black magic and a hair trigger is a bad combination- and a good way to get all the enemy attention focused on you. Plus you wanna conserve your mana in case things really go sour."

"Indeed." Gilles nodded sagely, apparently not too proud to accept criticism.

The same could not be said for Argus. "How was I supposed to know that was a feint? Kelga signaled in that direction so I ran out to take them. The more room we have between us, the easier it is for them to cast spells!"

"And you didn't stop and wonder where the other five were?" Maduin was looking at his hands nonchalantly. Apparently enjoying himself.

"Stopping and thinking like that can get you or someone else killed!" Argus thrust his sword into the soft soil. "We don't have time for that crap!"

"Look, kid." The monk snorted. "When time is short and things are deadly urgent, that's when you need to keep your head about you. Even a berserker knows how to focus his uncontrollable rage in a coherent direction. That little stunt you pulled left the rest of us wide open. If Sarina didn't have the foresight to scan around she might be on the ground with a knife in her back right now."

The fighter's eyes went wild. Maduin had apparently struck a nerve. "Damn you to hell, Vargas. I didn't ask for this! Why do I have to be the human shield?"

"We went over this, putz. You have the heaviest armor. We have two white magic users and plenty of healing potions. The pain will pass, child."

"Screw off!" The younger boy's voice was shrill. "I don't care about the pain. I can _handle_ the pain! It's…"

"It's what?"

Argus fidgeted in his armor while he glanced at Sarina. "It's the responsibility. I can't be charged with the lives of _five people!_ That's insane!"

"And you call yourself a warrior?"

"You- You BASTARD!" Argus strode up to Maduin and took a swing right at his face; a swing that the older monk easily caught. With Argus' fist in his own Maduin wheeled around and swiftly subdued the belligerent fighter, forcing him to the ground.

The others stood in stunned silence while Argus struggled to get up, but Maduin's defensive grappling and his own armor made it impossible. The warrior growled piteously, impotently.

"And stay down, kid." Maduin sneered. "Hubris will get you killed faster than an ogre's club or a dragon's fangs. Before we're outta this mess, you'll learn the difference between confidence and blind, stupid arrogance."

"Me, arrogant?" Argus' voice was strained. "That's a laugh, you pompous ass. You have an ego the size of an airship!"

"So do you." Maduin chuckled. "The difference is I have the skills to back it up. I know my limits- extreme though they may be. You, on the other hand, do not."

Argus' response was some kind of dwarven slur that he didn't even understand.

"That's enough!" Sarina barked. "My patience is exhausted with this childish nonsense! Maduin! Get off him! Now!"

The monk wordlessly complied.

"You two are like little kids! Grow the hell up! We have a job to do, and we can't be fighting amongst ourselves!"

"Then tell him to get off my case." Argus struggled to his feet.

"Be quiet, Argus!" Sarina hissed. "He's the leader. We elected him the leader because he's the most experienced adventurer." Although she was a few years younger than Maduin, and only a little older than Argus, she exuded more maturity than the two of them combined. "Take what he's telling you and learn from it. It's the only way you'll grow stronger. As for you…" She turned to the monk. "Quit being such a pompous ass."

"I-" Maduin's jaw dropped.

The group's black mage cleared his throat. "Well, I can't remember when I've had more fun, but I think the princess is expecting us."

"Yeah." Argus retrieved his sword. "Let's all just shut up and get the hell out of here."

"Every gob within a earshot knows we're here now." Kelga was admiring the wicked khukuri he stole from the goblin leader. "And goblin hearing range is closer to elven than that of a human. We do need to move."

"Is that… steel?" Duane eyed the treasure quizzically.

"Yeah, why?"

"Such metallurgy is supposed to be beyond the tribes." He said quietly.

"Maybe they got it off a dead Cornelian."

The red mage shook his head. "Unlikely. Ornate daggers like that aren't used by the Royal Army." He peered closer. "And that… That's the mark of Knocker's tribe! This knife is goblin made!"

"So what?" Gilles shrugged. "Garland taught them how to smelt iron. That's hardly alchemy."

"But this implies an infrastructure. Goblins aren't supposed to have mines and forges! This is a disaster!"

"…I see." The black mage got quiet.

"Hey, now. Let's not jump to conclusions." Maduin jumped in. "For all we know that could have been an officer, maybe even a general or the goblin equivalent. That hardly means they have the dwarves behind them."

"What?" Argus almost shrieked. "The dwarves would never-!"

"Steel." Kelga reported as he sifted through the weapons of the other fallen goblins. "Every one of them, steel. Pretty generic, too, if you ask me."

"See." Duane explained. "Goblins usually sport custom knives made from materials they scavenge. Someone is making them weapons."

"A war between Cornelia and Duergar could complicate things." Gilles muttered.

"It's not Duergar!" Argus yelled.

"Who else?" Sarina asked gently. "Who else near here has the capability to outfit an army like that?"

"But it doesn't make any sense." Maduin countered. "Why would they be helping monsters? Why would they be risking a war when they're at their weakest? Between the earth rot and their severed trade routes-"

"They're desperate." Duane speculated. "It's not like they're supporting the fiends themselves. The goblin tribes are in league with General Garland. What they're doing is supporting a foreign rebellion. Perhaps to secure untainted farmland east of their traditional borders, or to install a government more sympathetic to their plight."

"We don't KNOW they're doing anything!" Argus wailed.

"Guys! We need to go. _Now!_" Kelga was on his feet and glancing about nervously in all directions. "Bloody hell, we're surrounded!"

"Stay calm." Maduin ordered. "Which way do we go?"

"Uh… Up?" Kelga smiled weakly. "I said we're surrounded."

The bushes came alive, and out of the shuffling greenery a teeming throng of goblins began to emerge. This time they wore armor and carried spears and halberds.

"Well guys, it's been fun." Kelga chuckled nervously. "Later!" He jumped straight up and grabbed the highest branch he could. In only a few seconds he had scrambled up the tree and out of sight.

"Wonderful." Gilles growled as he dropped his staff and put his hands up. One by one, the Warriors of Light lowered their weapons and surrendered to the impish spears arrayed at them from all directions.


	20. Chapter 20: Honor Among Thieves

_Perfect, this is just perfect._ Kelga hung upside down, suspended by a hempen noose around his ankles several meters above the forest floor. Why did this happen to him, of all people? He was the fastest, the most nimble and by far the best at spotting traps before anyone else. So why was he now hanging precariously from this crude goblin snare? Ironically, his proficiency in all things security _was_ the reason. He was careless, that much was certain, but he was also too preoccupied with actually escaping to notice any other hazards. He had been feeling very pleased with himself; bounding over fallen logs, swinging from branches, diving and rolling. He had lost the goblins with ease, but when he vaulted over another tree stump he landed with both feet square in a snare that closed on him faster than even he could react.

From his inverted vantage point, he could see his scimitar among the ferns on the forest floor. He had dropped it in surprise, but it wasn't a big deal. He had plenty of throwing knives and other assorted short blades for cutting himself down. No, the real problem was the height from which he would be falling if he cut the rope. His ability to land on his feet had been legendary back home, but even he would have a hard time doing so when falling head-first. Also, if his pursuers found the blade, all they would have to do is look up and he would be in the same boat as the others.

Bright spots were forming in his vision due to the excess blood in his head. He lunged for the rope around his ankles, grabbing it on the second try. With more than a little effort he pulled himself right side-up again. The thief indulged himself in a smile as he began to climb the rope. Once he was sure he had enough slack he drew the steel khukuri and freed his legs. Looking down, he prepped himself for a fall but thought better of it. Even though he had his legs again, it was still a really long way down. _Oh well_, he thought, if he couldn't go down, he'd have to go up. With renewed vigor he continued climbing the rope to where it was fixed to a flimsy-looking branch. Just as he was preparing to shimmy across that branch towards the trunk of the tree, familiar voices started cackling from somewhere down below.

_Goblins!_ Kelga hadn't lost them after all. They were still on his trail, only far behind. _But how?_ The brigand's silent question was answered when a trio of warg wolves emerged from the undergrowth. Another breed of nakk domesticated by goblins, warg wolves were stronger and smarter than their wild cousins. One could tell them apart because wargs had distinctive, rust-colored pelts. The goblins had used them similar to the manner in which a hunter uses a hound. The wolves closed on where Kelga had sprung the snare trap, and stopped. They turned around, glaring in every direction but up; sniffing the wind for any further sign of the human. When their goblin masters caught up to them, they swiftly spotted Kelga's blade where it lay. The goblin picked up the shortsword with both hands and looked around for its former owner. Kelga didn't even breathe. _Don't look up, don't look up._ The lead imp that had taken his sword barked orders to his party- which dispersed to search the immediate area. The warg wolves did so as well, sniffing at the base of the tree from which Kelga hung by increasingly tired arms.

The largest of the three wolves snorted at the tree. Kelga's anxiety evolved into pure dread when the wolf reared up on its hind legs, raking its sharp claws into the tender bark. It was following the scent up the tree. The other two wargs began to whine and snarl- their quarry was obviously nearby. Fortunately for said quarry, the goblins hadn't caught on to their pets' discovery. Kelga had to think of something before they did. _Time for a little diversion._ Although they were pets in the loosest sense of the word, the voracious canids had every bit the unruly pack structure of their wild kin. While they wouldn't dare turn on their goblin masters, there was no love lost between the wolves themselves. Each of the three would kill to be top dog if given half a chance. Kelga Vasquez was about to give them a whole chance. He pulled a throwing knife out of his vest and hurled it down into the back of the lead animal. While he had the precision necessary to kill the mutt instantly, he wanted his target to make a fuss.

And make a fuss it did. The second the knife was in its back the wolf stopped scratching at the tree trunk and started whirling around in circles, yelping piteously. Most of the nearby goblins turned to see what all the noise was, but before they ever noticed the knife, the scene had devolved into one of grisly chaos and carnage. The other two wolves, instinct overriding what little intelligence they had, turned on their former leader. In domestic dogs such yelping attracted sympathetic pack mates ready to help, but in these monsters the cries of pain and distress signaled weakness and an opportunity for attack. The wounded wolf was mauled to death in only a few seconds, and now the two usurpers- driven mad by blood- attacked each other. The goblins surrounded their mortally wounded but still quite vicious beasts. They didn't dare try to break up the fight lest they get pulled into the deadly melee. Both dogs were a lost cause, so once a blood-caked victor emerged, it was promptly struck down by a goblin's javelin. The diminutive beastmen then started chattering angrily amongst themselves.

Kelga exhaled with relief. Without their wolves the goblins would be hard pressed to follow his scent trail vertically, although their sense of smell was slightly better than that of a human. Yes, they were indeed too stupid to look up, but what now? They had every reason to believe that the human invader was somewhere in the immediate area. They weren't going to leave any time soon. Kelga's arms were really starting to ache. _What the hell do I do now? I don't have all day to hang around!_ Slowly, as quietly as he could, he began to swing hand-over-hand towards the trunk of the tree. Where the branch emerged from the trunk it was far stouter; he would be able to sit there and wait out the search party. Once he reached the base of the branch and pulled himself up, he groaned softly with relief- his arm muscles were badly cramped. Shame on him, he thought, he had believed himself to be in better shape than he apparently was. As he messaged his shoulders he watched the goblins mill around noisily on the forest floor.

Now that he was out of immediate danger, it was time for him to plan his next move. The others had surrendered, the fools. Kelga couldn't believe that they would just lie down and be taken captive like that. Although, when he thought about it, what other choice did they have? They were completely surrounded. With so many gobs so close up it would have been nearly impossible to protect the mages- speaking of which, they were really too close to let loose the big spells. Gilles may have been able to take them all out, but at that range he would have torched everything; friend, foe _and_ forest. Although fighting was an option, and it probably would have been Argus' first choice, it wasn't a very good one. Running, while it seemed smart to Kelga, actually wasn't all that viable either. He was by far the best at escaping, and even he had just barely managed to do so. No, Vargas was right for waving the white flag. _But still…_ Kelga shuddered. _The idea of being captured by gobs really creeps me out._ What would they do to them? Kelga banished thoughts of cannibalism and ritual sacrifice from his mind. The goblins were taking orders from Garland, he reminded himself. They weren't just any random travelers, they were potential wartime enemies. No, the other five were in for some rather brutal interrogation, but whether it would happen now or once they arrived at a larger camp remained to be seen. One thing was certain; Kelga couldn't count on the spellcasters to bust themselves out. While all three of the mages had spells that would make conventional imprisonment next to impossible, his experience in the dungeons of Pravoka told him that the goblin jailers would have ways around that. Anti-magic fields seemed a little out of their league, but even beastmen were known to employ those nasty, enchanted stocks that sucked the mana right out of you. While the other five were undoubtedly pissed at Kelga for ditching them like that, he may just have been their only hope. He smiled to himself as he made up his mind. _I escaped for a reason. I'm their outside man. I'll save them!_

But how? It wasn't a matter of sneaking or lock-picking. That would be the easy part- trivially easy, in fact, if his suspicions of the goblin prisoner measures were accurate. The hard part lay in the fact that he didn't know where they were held and, in this forest, he didn't even know where to start looking. However, as the goblins on the ground started moving off in the same direction, he got an idea.

* * *

"Hey, you awake?" Maduin's voice echoed through Argus' head, bringing a painful ringing sensation with it. As the fighter opened his eyes he panicked momentarily. Everything was pitch-black, he couldn't see a thing. Was he blind?

"I… I can't see!"

Maduin chuckled. "Heh, there's nothing to see. It's nightfall, and they've got us in a hole in the ground."

"…Who's 'they'?"

"The goblins, of course. Wait, you didn't lose your memory, did you? That was quite a nasty clubbing they gave you."

Argus thought he tasted blood. That explained why his ears and eyes hurt. He was quiet for a moment as he delved into the deepest recesses of his memory- to make sure it was all there.

"Argus?" Maduin sounded a little worried.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. They didn't hit you guys?"

The monk laughed again. He seemed to be in pretty good spirits, despite their circumstances. "No, you were the only one who put up a fight. The rest of us don't lose our heads in a life or death situation."

"…Where are the others, are they okay?"

Maduin was silent for a few moments. "…I, I don't know. Once they sprung that ambush, Vasquez ran. I don't know if he made it or they got him later." He sighed. "I suppose it doesn't matter. We've seen his true colors… and they're yellow. We can't count on a thief."

"But he has the Fire Crystal!"

"Good, that's one less the goblins have. Assuming he actually did get away."

"What?" Argus struggled to search his armor for the Earth Crystal, but to no avail. It was the first he'd noticed that both his arms and legs were bound. If the goblins had the Crystals, then things had just gone from bad to worse.

"Yep." Maduin continued. "They took everyone's chains shortly after we arrived here. If we're going to get the three back, we don't have a lot of time." He snorted bitterly. "Hell, we may already be too late. Garland may very well have all four. The important thing is the safety of the team."

Argus couldn't contain his concern any longer. Although he was loathe to show this face of him to Maduin, he simply couldn't help it. "…Sarina? Where's Sarina? Is she all right?"

If the monk had any glib remarks, he held them; much to Argus' relief. "They took the mages somewhere else. Where exactly I don't know, but they are being kept separate."

"What for?"

"Probably has something to do with keeping their powers contained. It's notoriously difficult to keep a spellcaster under lock and key. They probably have special holding areas set up for their kind."

"Damn it!" Argus growled. "If Kelga's gone, and the mages can't use their spells, how the bloody hell do we get out of here?"

"Calm down, kid." Maduin chuckled. "They must think I'm just a tavern brawler. Not all of my techniques are rooted in the Primary Physical Plane."

"Uh… what?" One could tell Argus had a blank expression on his face, even in the dark.

"Just sit tight." Maduin grew silent as the sound of their discussion gave way to the screech of straining metal.

"Maduin?" Argus asked softly.

The monk didn't say anything, he just growled in pain as his shoulders dislocated and his wrists shattered. The noise was sickening.

"Maduin?"

Maduin finally spoke up again, his voice hoarse. "Ch… Chakra!"

A white hot flash of light flared up in Argus' eyes, momentarily blinding him. Maduin was enveloped in a bluish aura that looked and sounded a lot like Cure. The unpleasant sound of bones realigning themselves soon followed. "I'm all right." The black belt wheezed. "That… That really hurt."

"You're insane." Argus only now realized what happened. Maduin had broken his own arms and wrists to escape his shackles, healing them as soon as they were free. He didn't respond to the warrior's diagnosis. Instead, with a swift chopping motion he destroyed the shackles around his feet. Once those were free, he crawled up to Argus and destroyed the tiny stocks around his ankles and wrists.

Argus struggled to sit up in his heavy armor. Once the light from Maduin's healing technique dissipated, it was impossible to see anything in the pit. Going on memory it seemed like they were at the bottom of a very deep, very dry well. The walls were bare dirt, but their slopes were smooth and completely vertical. It would be impossible to climb out.

"Great." Argus groaned as he struggled to his feet. "Now what?"

"Now we wait for them to come down and get us."

"The goblins?"

Maduin grinned. It was for his own benefit, since the other inmate couldn't see it. "Sure. They don't know we busted the stocks. They'll be in for a surprise when they come down here again."

"Assuming they didn't just drop us down here to die." Argus pointed out.

"That's possible, but it doesn't make a great deal of sense. Why lower us down here with that pulley then? They could just have easily killed us topside."

"Maybe it's some kind of sadistic ritual." The warrior offered.

"Now that may be." The monk agreed. "Still, I suspect they're planning on retrieving us later. We can beat the hell out of them when they do."

"I don't have a sword." Argus reminded him.

"Oh, that's right." The black belt chided. "You're useless without a weapon. I'll take care of them, then."

"You ass." Argus huffed. Maduin didn't offer a rebuttal.

* * *

Sarina Alexandra felt like she was floating. She could almost see herself where she lay chained to the ground, face down atop an alchemical sigil that constricted her throat to the point that she could barely breathe, let alone speak. As if that wasn't enough, the stocks around her ankles and wrists had similar carvings in their metal. The mana that usually abounded in her mind, body and soul was being drained through the stocks and fed into the circle. Her own magical energy was being stolen and used to keep her from speaking. There was absolutely no way she could use magic in this condition. _It's not as if I know any spells to break these bonds anyway._ She thought bitterly.

Her hindered breath and lack of mana were taking their toll on her consciousness. She felt like she had been casting non-stop for days. She couldn't remember the last time she felt so thoroughly drained. But this, this was not just weariness. This was torture. She wasn't getting enough air, and she could feel herself slipping in and out of that euphoric dream world she had visited once before. The time she nearly drowned in Crescent Lake as a child.

She floated upward on the cool night air. Glimpsing her corpse at the center of the circle, the faint rising and falling of her chest the only sign that she was still alive, she turned her attention to more interesting things: Goblins cackled and brawled amongst themselves around nearby campfires. Their success had been thorough. Garland was sure to be pleased. As more and more of her rationality escaped her, she found solace in the fact that her enemies would be jovial. The nice thing about war was that sometimes there was a winner. Yes, for the survivors and victors, war was the greatest thing ever. No, she chided herself; the greatest thing ever was melon pie. Or maybe Argus, he was a real cutie. No, that wasn't right either. Melon pie was _so_ much better than Argus.

Her focus shifted once again to one of the goblins: A tall, slender goblin with round ears and green clothes. The goblin slinked through the ferns toward the sigil that had freed Sarina's mind from all of that magical mumbo jumbo. She watched with detached boredom as the goblin picked open her irons and quietly dragged her body off of the circle. It was only then that she realized the goblin was really a human, a gorgeous, blond-haired, suntanned human in light leather armor. As her throat opened up to receive the air she so desperately needed and mana began to slowly trickle its way back into her soul, her mind screamed with sudden recognition. _Kelga! _

"K, Kelga?" She choked.

He grinned roguishly and put a finger to his lips. She smiled and closed her eyes as he dragged her limp body into the safety of the bushes. Once he was sure they were far enough away from the camp proper, he sat her up against a tree trunk.

"There you are." He whispered. "Are you okay? Comfortable?"

"I knew… I knew you wouldn't abandon us…" She wheezed. "They took… The Light…"

"What?" Kelga nudged her gently. "'The Light'? You mean the Water Crystal?"

The white mage nodded faintly, still barely on the cusp of consciousness.

"Here." Kelga delved into his pouch and produced a small flask. Unstopping the cap he held it up to her face, gently grabbing her chin with his other hand. "Open up."

She complied, and Kelga placed a few droplets of the reddish liquid onto her tongue. No sooner then he did so, did Sarina's eyes snap wide open. She exhaled sharply as mana began flooding back into her anima. She hated the taste of ether, especially the flavored varieties, but the harsh alcohol was the most welcome substance in the world at that moment. She stood up abruptly, and just as suddenly pitched forward onto her knees.

"Whoa, take it easy." Kelga suppressed a chuckle. "You haven't fully recovered yet. Where are the others? Do you know where they're keeping the Water Crystal?"

"It takes…" She huffed. "It takes a different kind of alchemy to keep black magic contained like that. Gilles and Duane are probably in the same location. I don't- I don't know where Argus and Maduin are."

"Can you sense them? Do you have enough strength yet?"

Sarina nodded and closed her eyes again. As more and more mana flowed into her mind she could sense the spirits of every living thing around her once again. The entire forest came alive: plants, fungi, animals… Animals generally had the strongest spiritual presence, and the nearby goblins and humans practically forced their way into her mind. The vibrant vigor of the two fighters could be felt clearly at the bottom of a well, due northeast of their current location. She also thought she felt two more faint human auras, but they were so stunted in power she couldn't pinpoint their location. They were most likely Gilles and Duane, suffering from the same affliction she was still recovering from.

"Well?" Kelga did his best to hide his impatience.

Sarina stood up slowly, bracing her hands on her knees. "Argus and Maduin are alive and well. I can sense them clearly in that direction." She pointed northeast. "I… I can't find the other two. They're alive, don't worry, they're just so depleted they kind of blend in with the rest of the forest."

Kelga nodded grimly. "Okay. How are you holding up? Think you can manage now?"

"Definitely." She flashed him her most reassuring smile. "Listen, maybe we should split up. I know exactly where the fighters are, I'll see to it that they're released. You look for the mages, okay?"

"You sure?" Kelga asked because, frankly, he wasn't.

"Don't worry. With my powers back I'm even stealthier than you." She started chanting the Invis spell in a hushed whisper. A faint light enveloped her and bathed her in rainbow hues, as if the air around her were full of tiny, floating prisms. She became totally transparent as the spell distorted light around the contours of her body. Moments later, she seemed to flicker out of existence completely.

"Wow…" Kelga whistled, impressed. "Maybe white magic's more up my alley…"

"Good luck!" Sarina's voice called as the ferns spontaneously parted along a trail to the northeast.

"Don't worry, I'll find him…" Kelga said with firm conviction.

The foliage stopped shuffling. "…Him?"

"Them!" Kelga stammered. "Yeah, right, both of them."

"Don't start any trouble, okay?" The forest floor resumed depressing for no good reason.

"No worries!" Kelga slowly began stalking towards the heart of the goblin camp.


	21. Chapter 21: Escape

"So this guy- he was the size of an ogre- didn't care too much for that. With one hand he knocked the table he was sitting at across the room. It was like something out of a book. He slowly, all deliberately like wiped the eggs off the back of his neck. Then he turned around- really slowly- and just glowered at me like a friggin' bull. He didn't say anything, he just breathed really hard. His eyes were all small."

"Uh oh," Argus said. "What did you do then?"

"I didn't do anything. The guy just stood there and glared at me for a while. I just sat right where I was and glared right back at him. Right at about the time he started to snarl at me I went 'what the hell is your problem?'"

"You're insane. You know that, right?"

"Not really," Maduin replied. "Guys like that are all show. They become conditioned to everyone giving them a wide berth from around the time they drop out of grammar school. They're totally unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of intimidation."

"How is someone a fraction of his size going to intimidate him?"

"Heh, it's all in the attitude." Maduin shifted to rest his back against the dirt wall of the well. "They're like monsters, they can sense fear. If you don't project any, instinct chimes in and suggests that there might be a reason for that."

"So what happened then?" Argus asked.

"Well, I guess he was sizing me up, but he couldn't have been all that smart since he attacked me anyway."

"What did you do?"

"I just sat there. That is until the big oaf picked up another party's table and threw it at me. Just as he did I sprung to my feet and assumed the Black Scorpion stance."

"Black Scorpion?"

"I'll show you sometime when we've got some light. It's a guard stance, and an especially stable one at that. If you kinda lean into it at just the right angle and with just the right timing, it can send your attacker reeling. I shattered the table with it."

"Wow!" Argus exhaled, impressed.

"Nah, it's simple, really. But the guy still didn't take the hint. He just lumbered at me and drew back for a big punch. Needless to say, it was easy to avoid. I sidestepped his fist and grabbed his arm. Then I kicked his legs out from under him and let his weight do the rest. I think plates and stuff fell off the tavern shelves."

"Was he out?" Argus asked.

"Not quite, but he was stunned. I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and smashed a table over his head. THEN he was out."

"I never would have guessed a life of monasticism would have been so rough."

Maduin laughed. "Hah, no way, this was some time after I left Ryukahn. I would have been excommunicated for that anyway. We're not supposed to start fights, only finish them."

The two sat there in silence for a moment, and then Argus spoke up again. "Why did you leave the order, anyway?"

"Uh… It was a number of reasons." Maduin sighed. "I always did chafe under authority, you know? I would have made a horrible soldier. It's the same reason I don't always work for the same boss. That's not the whole reason, either, but it's kind of a long story."

"Bah," Argus scoffed. "It's not as if I have anything else to do."

"Point," Maduin agreed. "Okay, I guess I should start from the beginning. I'm from Crescent Lake. You ever heard of it?"

"That's where Sarina was born…" Argus trailed off.

"Right, well, that's where I'm from too. It's like Pravoka, only civilized. It's an independent city-state outside the territorial claims of both Cornelia and Elfheim; largely because the virtually impassable Gulg Mountains keep it pretty much isolated. It takes its name from the huge, freshwater lake it's situated on, at the base of Mt. Gulg, an extinct volcano. I've been everywhere except the northland. It's still the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

"Cool." Argus wasn't sure what this had to do with heresy so severe Cardinal Vias could use it as blackmail.

"Sorry, rambling. I'd really like to settle down there someday. Or at least visit again. I… I can never go back."

"Right, about that," Argus said, a little impatiently.

"Yeah, well, anyway… Uh, my father was kind of a lecher. I guess that's one thing I inherited from him. Anyway, I'm a bastard. There's no real better way to put it. I was born out of wedlock and my mother's family disowned her for it."

"Ouch," Argus tried his best to sound sympathetic.

"Her family was wealthy, too. That city's pretty prosperous; still is, by any reckoning. But she was young, and didn't have any marketable skills. She became a barmaid, and gil was scarce."

"Your father didn't support you?" Argus was genuinely disgusted.

"Well, he was required to by law. But he kept sleeping around on her, and eventually left town completely. The money stopped coming."

"That's rough."

"Heh," Maduin snorted bitterly. "I didn't make it any easier on her, either. I was a problem child from day one, totally impossible to control. Everyone blamed my mother, because a bastard cretin like me is the inevitable result of a broken family. I got into fights at the drop of a hat, started hanging around with the wrong group of kids. I was expelled from school, and eventually exiled."

"Exiled? What the hell for?"

"That's not important. The point is I was judged too young for prison, and since Crescent Lake is a pacifist theocracy, my options were indentured servitude in Elfheim or some kind of White Monasticism, whether it be mage or monk. Well, I was judged too stupid and ill-tempered to be shipped off to Onrac so they sent me to Ryukahn. I would learn skills, morals and, most importantly, discipline. I did, for the most part."

"So why did you leave?"

"Calm down, I'm getting to that! Geez, you're like a little kid."

Argus laughed. "I've never heard you talk this much. You're practically blathering like Duane here."

"Well, what the hell else are we supposed to do?" Maduin turned Argus' earlier question back at him.

"Heh, you're right. Go on."

"The worst, that is, I mean, the hardest part of Ryukahn was the discipline." Maduin shifted positions again to get comfortable. "I actually loved the training. I excelled at it, frankly, and I thrived in an environment where I was encouraged to fight."

"But the fights are heavily structured, right?"

"Yeah, but that didn't actually bother me too much. If you randomly pick fights with anyone you end up getting your ass kicked. When every confrontation is evenly matched it's much easier to identify your mistakes and weaknesses and improve from them. I loved every second of it, and I was by any reckoning the best student in the dojo."

The ex-monk was quiet for a moment. "Has Sarina ever told you anything about her training?"

"What? Er, yes. Yes, of course," Argus replied; the question kind of caught him off guard. After all, she was a mage. What could their regimens possibly have in common? "Why?"

"The precepts are similar, almost identical. The only real difference is that a white mage trains his mind while a white monk trains his body. We're crafted to be identical in almost every other relevant respect."

"Uh, you're a lot different from Sarina," Argus pointed out.

"You're telling me. I've known her a while, so I've had plenty of time to think about why that is. She honestly, earnestly believes everything she was taught. Her faith is virtually unbreakable- believe me, I've tried- she will sit there and tell you with a straight face that each and every one of us has a 'destiny' and that everything happens for a reason. And that no one suffers in vain. Life is one big story with an inevitable, happy ending. The struggles we endure serve mainly to improve us."

"You don't believe that?" Argus asked.

"Of course not!" Maduin growled angrily. "You do? It's the most ridiculous notion in existence!"

"I… I don't know." Argus confessed. "I'm not really the intellectual type. I'm more of a practical kind of idiot. Try to make the best of life that you can, you know?"

"Huh," Maduin snorted. "Must be nice, but when you think about it, does Sarina have any reason to doubt the precepts? No offense, she's a wonderful young woman, but she's led a life of absolute luxury. She's only now just ventured out into the real world, while I was born in it. We'll see how long her faith in that garbage lasts under these circumstances."

"So that's why you left? Over a philosophical disagreement?"

"I'm from Crescent Lake," Maduin chuckled. "We take philosophy very seriously, but no, that's not it. I directly and deliberately disobeyed Master Duncan and the other high monks. After I earned my black belt, it kinda went to my head. I was trained never take a life unless in self defense, or in defense of the innocent."

"That sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Argus pointed out, a little worried that his comrade was about to try and justify murder.

"Of course it is, but only at an individual level. Unlike the church, which believes that sins are only born of ignorance and disobedience, I believe that there are also sins of omission and inaction. If you have the capability to make the world a better place and you don't, aren't you responsible for the horrible state of things?"

"Well, yeah," Argus agreed. "But doesn't that fall under the whole 'protect the innocent' thing?"

"You would think," Maduin muttered. "In fact, that was the very argument I made years ago. But apparently, the order didn't see it that way. They're the greatest fighters in the entire world, and yet all they do is sit in that monastery seeking spiritual enlightenment. They should dispatch monks around the world to stop wars and eradicate monsters- not just guard temples."

"So you argued for a doctrine of preemption."

"Exactly; if we know where the wicked are. People or things who have attacked the innocent in the past and we have no reason to believe they will change their ways, we should go to them… and take them out."

"I take it the order didn't like this idea," Argus mused.

"They didn't, but they also pride themselves on intellectual integrity. They aren't going to ban a monk just for disagreeing with them. The pivotal moment came when I acted on my convictions."

"You went on the offensive?" Argus was suddenly very interested in this story.

"I did." Maduin's knuckles could be heard cracking in the dark. There's a coven of demons in the mountains north of Crescent Lake. They're as intelligent as any human, psychic even, and they're powerful sorcerers. Ever heard of a mind flayer?"

Argus nodded, even though it was pointless. "Yeah, a psychic, magic-using monster that eats people's brains. They're supposed to have a face like an octopus or squid."

"That's right." Maduin confirmed. "Apparently they require brains as an essential part of their diet. The more intelligent the victim, the more nutritious. Obviously, they prefer creatures like humans, elves and dwarves over animals and other monsters."

"Why do you think that is?" Argus asked.

"The hell should I know? When I'm done with a monster, there's nothing left to dissect. That's irrelevant anyway. The most disturbing thing about them is rumors that they keep populations of people... for use as cattle. This allows them to avoid outright war with the civilized world. Their voracious appetites mean that they would be constantly kidnapping people from towns and villages. Their only other alternative is hibernation. They're supposed to be able to turn themselves to stone and preserve themselves indefinately."

"So you went after them."

"You're damn right I did! Even if the rumors WERE just rumors I was obligated to find out for myself. Could you imagine how hellish that would be? Born and raised in frigid caves in complete darkness, only to one day have your brain devoured? Those monsters have no right to exist! I insisted that the order send an expedition to find the fiends, eradicate them and free their slaves. But no, that would disturb the 'natural ballance' of things. It would start a war. Apparently, the piscodemons had a sustainable population of 'cattle' and thus were not snatching people from Crescent Lake. I was utterly disgusted over how permissive they were. We had every reason to believe people were suffering and dying every day, and those hypocritical bastards were completely disregarding their own precious precepts. I told them if they weren't going to send me, that I would go myself."

"And?"

"And they said that if I left to slay the demons, I could never come back. I considered that a fair deal."

"So then what? Did you find the monsters?"

"...No," Maduin muttered bitterly. "It's freezing in those mountains, cartographers say it's the coldest place in the world. Something to do with a combination of elevation, wind currents and underground rivers. The whole region's covered by glaciers. I went up there and only got myself lost. I nearly died."

"How did you escape?" Argus was disappointed.

"This beastmaster found me passed out in a snowdrift. He took me back to his village. I was still unconscious, so I couldn't heal myself. I was so badly frostbitten they were seriously considering amputating my hands and feet. They would have, too, if it weren't for a traveling white mage that just happened to be in town."

"...You mean?" Argus was incredulous.

"Yeah, Sarina. She heard about my little stunt and went looking for me. Apparently, she's the one who sent the beastmaster out to find me in the first place. I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for her."

"And at this rate, you'll never repay the debt!" A female voice shot through the darkness like a crossbow bolt.

"Sarina?" Argus was on his feet in an instant. "Are you alright? How did you escape?"

Sarina giggled. "I'm fine! Kelga got me out of their prison. How are you boys? Are you okay?"

"...How long have you been up there?" Maduin sounded annoyed.

She giggled again. "Long enough. Anything broken?"

"Nah, we're fine!" Argus was jubilant. "So Kelga came through after all!" He jabbed a finger in the general direction of Maduin. "I guess you had him pegged wrong!"

"Humph." Maduin grunted.

"He's looking for the other mages right now," Sarina informed them. "I'm going to give us some light." She leaned back into a sitting position and started chanting one of the most simple and elementary spells she knew. A small, bright orb of light appeared in her hands. She guided the light down into the dry well, revealing two disheveled fighters who were shielding their eyes and squinting.

"Well, can you get us out or not?" Maduin asked.

"There's what looks like a rope and pulley here." Sarina disappeared from view for a moment, and then tossed what looked like the lid of a large barrel into the pit. The disk had a hempen rope in the middle, but it didn't reach down to the bottom. Not even close, really. Sarina disappeared again and the barrel lid began to descend, accompanied by an irritating, squeaking sound.

"Woo!" Argus cheered. Once the lid reached the bottom the two fighters stepped onto it, gripping the rope. "Okay, bring us up!"

The squeaking resumed, and the prisoners ascended towards freedom.

* * *

Kelga crawled through the damp ferns and moss. His first priority was to find Gilles and Duane and get them to safety. After that, it would be his responsibility to locate the group's weapons and Crystals. Once everyone was reunited with each other and their stuff, they would make a stealthy escape, gods willing. It sounded simpler than it actually was. The goblin camp was large and sprawling, and he had found Sarina's prison array through sheer luck. Wherever the other two were, he hoped it was the same place.

He froze in place as two goblin sentries marched past his position. There were far too many for him to fight alone. In fact, there were too many for the entire party to take on. He had to do whatever he could to avoid confrontations, and he would be forced to flee if he did run into trouble. While he was sure he could get away if that happened, it would put his comrades in jeopardy. It would also make any second attempts much more difficult.

He let out a sigh of relief as the goblins passed without incident. Slowly, he raised his body a few centimeters off the ground and resumed crawling towards a clearing lit with several torches. Whatever the little imps had up ahead, it seemed to be important. Kelga suppressed a shudder as a large beetle brushed across his bare legs. He didn't know what he would do once he found them. Would they be better or worse off than Sarina had been? Things would get tricky if neither of the other two mages were coherent. What's more, he would also be at his most vulnerable during the actual rescue. As he crawled towards the light, Kelga couldn't help but think Sarina had the easier task.

* * *

"How did you find us?" In the relatively bright moonlight (bright compared to the pit he was just in) Argus was furiously brushing clumps of dirt off of his armor- and out of his hair.

"I could sense your presence." The healer responded, nonchalantly. "You were both conscious, and your auras were not diminished in the least. I could easily pinpoint your location."

"And the others?" Maduin was all business. "You said Vasquez went to get them? Where are they?"

"That," Sarina said, "is the 100,000 gil question. Before Kelga released me, the goblins had me in a prison array. My powers were contained, and I was barely conscious. Gilles and Duane are likely in a similar state. I can sense them, but only enough to tell that they're still alive. I have no idea exactly where they're being held."

The black belt continued his relentless interrogation. "And the Crystals? Our weapons? Where are they?"

Sarina gazed up through the forest canopy at the waning moon. "I don't know that, either. Of course, our first priority is Gilles and Duane. We can plan our next move from there."

"Agreed," Maduin huffed, "which way did Vasquez go? I don't trust him to do this alone."

"Wait a minute!" Argus interjected. "You still think he's some kind of coward? After he came all the way here to get us?"

"No, of course not," the monk corrected. "His luck WILL run out someday though; I'd sooner it not be tonight."

"He may need our support," Sarina nodded. "He's this way, follow me."

* * *

The clearing was totally deserted. While Kelga should have been relieved, the total absence of goblins in such a well-lit area was more foreboding than it was encouraging. He had climbed a tree just to make sure. The fiends were holding some kind of meeting towards the interior of the camp. _Some kind of ritual? Whatever. Now's my chance!_

He blithely dropped several meters to the forest floor without so much as a sound. Taking a quick gander in both directions, he dashed up toward the two prison arrays. Both Gilles and Duane were chained to the ground just as Sarina had been. The way the white mage was talking, Kelga had half expected a totally different setup. From what he could tell the only difference was the shape and style of the magic circles etched into the ground. Why they needed to be segregated at totally opposite ends of the camp was anyone's guess. Duane was sprawled out on his back, and he was out cold. Only his slow, shallow breathing even hinted that he was still alive. His face was totally drained of all color- moreso than usual, if that were even possible. Kelga couldn't help but think he would look adorable and peaceful if the circumstances were at all different. He shook his head and set to work on the shackles. Once the warlock was free, Kelga dragged his inert mass away from the array. Satisfied that the distance was sufficient, he rushed to the black mage's side.

Gilles was chained face-down to the ground, in a position that looked decidedly uncomfortable. With some swift lock picking the wizard was free, and Kelga rolled him over before he pulled him away from the circles. He looked particularly lifeless and doll-like. It didn't help that Gilles lacked a face. Under normal circumstances, he at least had eyes- but comatose like this there was nothing but a black void where a normal person's face would be.

Kelga glanced about nervously again. He had never been good at containing his curiosity.

poke There was flesh.

poke prod pinch A face. Sure enough, Gilles did have a face. He wanted to explore further, but decided that this probably wasn't the best time. What's more, if the black mage woke up during something like that, he would be extremely pissed off. Even without any mana, Gilles was scary as hell. Kelga wisely decided to leave him alone while he recovered. Well, leave his un-face alone, at any rate. He would be best served to drag the two into the bushes though, out of the open.

Returning to Duane's side, he examined the red mage once again. He didn't seem as out as he did earlier, but rather in a state of fitful sleep. Kelga was relieved that he wasn't hurt. He knelt down and nudged him gently. The warlock made a weird noise, eyes snapping open. He didn't appear to be staring at anything in particular.

"Hey," Kelga whispered, "you awake? Are you alright, Duane?"

"I..." Duane breathed, "I must confess, I've been better." His eyes still weren't focusing on anything.

Kelga exhaled in relief and sat down on the ground next to him. "I was worried sick, Sorel!"

For the first time, Duane turned toward Kelga and squinted. "Kelga? You were worried? You came back? I thought..." cough "I thought you ran."

Kelga flashed him a brilliant grin. "I did! All the easier to come and bust you guys out! It would have been a hell of a lot tougher if I'd been captured along with you!"

"Vargas thinks you're a coward," Duane smiled, "I knew it wasn't true. I knew it had to be a mistake."

Kelga allowed himself to relax; lounging on his side, propping his head up with one arm. "Really?"

"Really what?"

"You had faith? You believed I'd come back?"

"Of course."

The two sat there in silence for a few moments, until Kelga grew impatient. "Well? Why?"

Duane laughed, "I'm much better at flattery when my mind is running at full capacity."

"So whatever you're thinking _is_ flattering?" Kelga grinned. "I guess that's enough for now, but you owe me some earnest flattery later, okay?"

The red mage sat up slowly, laboriously. "Absolutely, but what about you? Why were you worried about me specifically?"

"Gilles won't teach me black magic."

Duane looked at him cockeyed. "Is that the only reason?"

Kelga's trademark roguish grin reappeared. "It is if you want it to be!" He winked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You really are dense, aren't you?" Kelga spat. Standing up, he stomped over to Gilles and proceeded to drag his still snoozing body out of the clearing. "Didn't you tell me that the most interesting books aren't written in Common?"

"Yes, but what-" His eyes widened with sudden recognition. "Oh. Oh my."

* * *

"Let me see!" Argus tried to plow his way between Sarina and Maduin. "What's going on?"

The two ignored him. "Some kind of ceremony?" Maduin asked.

"I don't know anything about goblin culture or religion," the white mage confessed. "Or their military affairs, for that matter. However, if I were to make an educated guess, I'd say this is more of a speech or a briefing or something."

Maduin nodded, "Well, at least we know where the Crystals are now."

A goblin in heavy armor stood on an ornate stone dais, cackling and chattering at the lesser imps gathered below in an unorganized throng. The leader had all three of the missing Crystals around his neck. The chains were designed for humans, and three of them draped around such a diminutive frame made the goblin look like he would sink if he were to fall in water; never mind the armor.

"This complicates things," Sarina murmured.

"I guess now we'll see if Vasquez is all talk or not."

"Can't we just kill him?" Argus asked, finally finding his own gap in the undergrowth from which he could observe.

"That's suicide, even for us," Maduin scoffed. "That's practically the entire camp over there."

"I don't mean take them all on, idiot." Argus growled. "If we could set up some kind of distraction one of us could get a shot at the leader."

Sarina grinned. "That's actually not a bad idea!"

"Yeah..." Maduin grunted, reluctantly. "Only what are you going to use for such a diversion?"

"Gilles," Argus stated matter-of-factly.

"We still need our weapons first," the monk countered.

"I thought you didn't need weapons!" Argus chided, mockingly.

"I don't, but YOU do once we have to make a hasty escape. At any rate, I suggest we find the weapons first."

Sarina hissed, "Whatever we're doing, I suggest we do it quickly. We have no idea how much longer this presentation is going to last!"

Maduin stood, "She's right, let's go find the others. And our weapons."

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be alright, Duane?" Kelga had opened a small vial of smelling salts and was waving the fumes in Gilles' face.

The red mage collapsed backwards against the trunk of a tree, slowly sliding into an uncomfortable sitting position. "Yes... I've just never been this drained before. I am... physically unharmed. How is our favorite black mage?"

"Still out cold. He must have been chained up longer than you. I used all my ether on Sarina."

Duane removed his hat, scratching at his scalp furiously. "Ah, so you found the others?"

Kelga shook his head. "No, just Sarina. She said she could sense Argus and Maduin, so I let her go after them."

"I don't suppose you've seen my rapier?"

"No, sorry."

Kelga put the cap back on the vial and sat back on the wet grass. Smelling salts were exceptionally noxious, that's how they worked, but if they didn't work immediately there was no point in continuing such torment. The thief decided that it was probably better to let the wizard recover on his own.

"That didn't work?" Duane asked. It was really more of an observation than a question.

Kelga nodded. "Yeah, which kinda sucks. We probably don't have a lot of time to kill."

"Help me up, would you?" Duane was struggling to his feet.

"Just rest for now, you're no good in that condition."

The warlock chuckled. "Such concern all of the sudden."

Kelga's face flushed a deep red. Not even the night could conceal it. "Yeah, sorry. About that- Look, I know not everyone's... Sorry if I offended-"

"Not at all." Duane waved dismissively. "I may not be the greatest magician or fencer in the world, but what I lack in specialization I make up for in versatility. I like to believe that versatility carries over into... other facets of my life. Although, in this particular case, it's not some skill I learned. It's an innate attribute."

"What are you talking about?"

Duane smiled weakly. "You really are dense, aren't you?"

Kelga grinned. "I knew it! You gave off all the signals!"

The warlock rolled his eyes. "I've long since learned to take anything emasculating as a compliment."

The rogue stood up slowly. "So... does this mean?"

Duane nodded. "Yes, I'd like that. Very much. Now, if you'd be so kind as to help me up, we could leave this dreadful place."

"But, you're not-"

"Just help me up!"

Kelga extended his hand. Duane grabbed it and hoisted himself onto his feet. Once he was sure of his footing, he released Kelga from his grip and put his hat back on.

"Like you said, time is not in our favor."

"What do you have in mind?" Kelga glanced about nervously.

Duane took a deep breath. "Consider yourself fortunate Kelga, you're about to witness a very rare phenomenon, a Conversion."

"Conversion? Converting what?"  
Duane's pupils contracted to tiny pinpoints. "My flesh... To mana!" A sick stretching noise like rapidly tanning leather sounded as Duane's face darkened. His visage stretched taught until deep cuts criss-crossed his face. Blood poured down from his forehead. Kelga gasped in shock.

"It's alright, don't be alarmed." Aside from the damage, Duane's face returned to normal. Blood trickled out of his gloves, suggesting that the rest of the body was cursed with similar stigmata. "It's not... life threatening."

"What the hell!" Kelga stared, dumbfounded.

Duane exhaled sharply. "Phew. I hope I never have to do that again. At any rate, I have regained my powers. I can use magic again." He quickly cast Cure on himself, completely reversing the havoc he had just wrought upon himself. He then turned to the dead weight that was Gilles Arkham and began casting another spell Kelga had never seen before.

"Refresh!" Gilles was shrouded in a glowing aura that resembled Cure, but it was yellow-red instead of blue-green.

The black mage's amber eyes snapped open. He immediately sat up straight.

"Gilles? Are you okay?" Kelga rushed to his side and knelt down beside the wizard.

"I want to destroy things," Gilles spat.

* * *

"Pay-dirt!" Argus beamed.

"You found them?" Maduin dashed over toward the warrior's position.

Argus pointed through the foliage. "Over there, big bronze box. That looks like their armory."

"I agree. Good work, Baron!" Maduin pushed some of the branches aside so he could get a better view.

"Are there any sentries posted?" Sarina was a little more reserved.

Maduin shook his head. "No. Goblins aren't the smartest critters, are they. Everyone seems to be at that big gathering over there."

"Those are our weapons, alright!" Argus pointed to an assortment of blades and blunt weapons that hung from hooks on one side of the crate. They were far too large for any goblin to handle.

Sarina breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, you two grab our gear and head back to that stone altar. I'm going to go recover the other three. That assembly could break up at any minute. We simply _must_ recover those Crystals while we have this chance."

Maduin nodded. "Understood. We'll meet you there."

Without another word, the white mage turned and jogged away. Although they knew they were alone, the fighters were cautious on their approach to the armory. Now would be a very bad time to fall into a pitfall or snare. Silently, they started stripping the human weaponry away from the smaller impish arsenal. They recovered their weapons first: Argus, his broadsword and shield; Maduin, his baghnakhs, nunhaku and staff. After that they grabbed Gilles staff, Sarina's hammer and Duane's rapier and left the clearing as silently as they had entered.

* * *

"So you came back after all." Gilles grunted.

"Why the hell does everyone act so surprised?" Kelga wailed.

"We really should go find the others." Duane reminded him.

"Right." The thief collected himself. "Follow me." He turned planted his face directly in Sarina's chest.

"Good, you found them!" The healer huffed.

"So I take it everyone is well?" Gilles asked the newest arrival.

Sarina grinned. "Yes, everyone's just fine! Argus and Maduin are recovering our weapons as we speak. Just as soon as we meet up with them, we'll work on getting the Crystals back."

Gilles' eyes got wide as he quickly patted himself down. "Bloody hell!"

"Don't worry, we know where they are." Sarina pointed back in the direction she came. "The goblin leader is addressing his troops, and he has the Crystals. Can we count on you to create a diversion, Master Arkham?"

"Absolutely. Sorel restored my powers, somehow."

Sarina turned to Kelga. "Kelga, that will be your cue to get the Crystals back from the leader. Kill him if you have to, but our objective is to escape without a battle. Can you handle it?"

"Puh-lease. Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

Sarina nodded. "Good, let's go."

* * *

"Geez, goblins sure love to talk." Argus was getting impatient. "What's taking so long?"

Maduin glared at him. "You actually _want_ the goblin to finish?"   
"No, not him. Sarina and the others. I want to get the hell out of here, yesterday."

"That makes two of us."

Both fighters turned to face the rustling bushes behind them. Gilles was the first of four out of the bramble. "I heard you were in need of some pyrotechnics."

Argus grinned, but Maduin looked suspicious. "Are you in any condition to cast?"

"Not to worry," the wizard nodded. "Just tell me where to deliver the ordnance."

The black belt gestured for Gilles to come closer, then he pointed towards the clearing where the goblin pep rally was still going strong. "Towards the rear of that formation. It would be ideal if you could cast in a way that wouldn't give away your position. Kelga, that split second is all you have to snag the Crystals away from the leader."

"Not a problem." Kelga assured him.

"May I borrow your Crystal, Vasquez?" Gilles held out his hand. "I'm going to need some amplification."

"Sure." Kelga removed his chain and tossed it to Gilles. "I'm going to get in position now, what's the signal?"

"A giant, exploding fireball." Gilles muttered. He began chanting the Fire spell, while the Fire Crystal in his hand burned brilliantly.

"Right, stupid question." The thief turned and dashed away, as quickly and silently as he could.


	22. Chapter 22: Invisible Enemy

"The beast races are found in every land. There is not a continent, country or island nation where their presence is absent. Beastmen live in the shadows of the enlightened races, stuck in a perpetual purgatory between barbarism and genuine civilization. What few accomplishments they have, they've gleaned from humans, elves or dwarves. It's popular to claim that they're inherently inferior, and there may very well be truth to this claim; but one must not discount the fact that their history is exceptionally short. Four hundred years ago, there were no goblins, ogres or sahagin. Their appearance in historical records coincides with the calamity that brought low the high human culture that was the Lufenian Empire, and the appearance of all non-sapient monsters. Least among the beastmen are the goblins. Standing roughly one meter tall, they are vaguely humanoid in appearance. Despite their small size their short, bulky limbs provide them with surprising strength. Their faces are ugly by the standards of elven aestheticism, their ears droop and their noses are large and bulbous. There is little sexual dimorphism between the genders either, and they are similar to dwarves in this respect. While I disagree that my grandfather's evolutionary theories can be applied to monsters, there does appear to be a common meme in this case. Goblins are capable of speaking Common, as well as Hermetic and Divine- although they do have their own language- Impish. As a result, they have limited proficiency in magic and alchemy and are capable of dealing with the enlightened races on a somewhat diplomatic basis. However, the history of their relationship with humans and elves is one of constant strife. Most common in the Kingdom of Cornelia, the roving, nomadic tribes attack travelers on sight; scavenging gold and raw materials from their victims- which they use to barter among neighboring clans. While nearly nothing is known about goblin reproduction, their numbers are apparently without end. It is often claimed that they could sack Cornelia if they were united. Fortunately for the author as well as the reader, there is just as much fratricidal infighting as there is conflict with humanity." Excerpt from _Intelligent Monsters: An Overview of the History and Biology of the Known Species of Sapient Beastmen_ by Dr. Erasmus Unne.

* * *

The moon was in the latter half of its cycle, beginning to wane. Yet, it still shone brilliantly high in the night sky. The pale lamination reflected off the patchwork light armor of the goblins gathered in the clearing. For creatures known to be so unruly, they listened to their leader with rapt attention. The imp addressing the assembly was a goblin commandant, the head of the regional guard chapter. Goblins usually wore light leather armor, but this particular fiend was bogged down in a full suit of worked copper plate mail. He (she?) chattered furiously while holding a spiked mace high in the air. The dissertation was totally unintelligible to an outsider, but whatever it was talking about was obviously important. Punctuating the gravity of the situation were the three ornate silver chains that hung low around the senior guardsman's neck; each of which had pendant with a large colored crystal; one green, one yellow and one blue.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion sounded and an enormous blast of fire engulfed the forest south of the clearing. Simultaneously, every goblin that was not already facing that direction turned to witness the towering wall of flame. The commandant's speech stopped short, but no one was listening anyway. Every pair of beady eyes stared in shocked amazement at the firestorm that had erupted without warning directly behind them. The leader started to shout out an order, but was abruptly silenced by a human hand. Its throat was subsequently slit by a compact jack knife. Amid a fountain of blood the chains were liberated and the shadowy assailant retreated back into the shadows. Several minutes passed before the goblins noticed their leader was dead. A full hour would pass before they would realize their armory had been destroyed and their human prisoners were gone.

Despite his considerable fatigue, or perhaps because of it, Argus was feeling extremely self-satisfied. He blithely twirled the Earth Crystal around a mailed finger while the group trudged through the increasingly sparse forest. The sound of owls, wolves and cicadas was beginning to give way to the incessant croaking of frogs. The ground was becoming progressively damp- grass and ferns gave way to lichens and moss.

"Hey, Vargas," Argus clucked. "I say we make a new rule."

"What is it?" The black belt did not sound quite so chipper.

Argus was quiet for a brief moment, "Never surrender."

"If I had some more advanced spells, we wouldn't have had to," Gilles muttered bitterly.

"All's well that ends well," Sarina cooed. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

"Ah," Maduin sighed in mock relief. "Nothing soothes the soul like a couple clichéd proverbs!"

"As if you have a soul!" The white mage kicked him, hard.

"He has a point," Kelga offered. When Sarina turned to glare at him, the thief clarified: "Argus does, I mean. Next time we might not be so lucky."

"So we should resolve to fight until the last drop of blood?" Maduin huffed.

"Absolutely!" Argus didn't catch the sarcasm.

"We _should_ resolve not to place ourselves in such a situation again," Gilles growled.

Kelga hung his head. "Yeah, that whole stretch of forest just screamed 'ambush'. Security's my responsibility; I should have been more alert."

"It was no one's fault!" Sarina insisted. "We recovered our things and escaped with our lives, could we _please_ just put this ordeal behind us?"

Maduin stopped walking. "Alright, I strongly disagree here, but I'm no tyrant- and I hate working for tyrants, so I'll put it to a vote. The issue is whether or not to make it procedure _not_ to surrender to the enemy. Vote in favor if you're willing to die for this princess, vote against if you value your own skin above royalty."

"Cut the crap," Argus said. "I didn't say we shouldn't run. There's a difference between fighting an un-winnable battle and surrendering to be tortured to death. Are you scared or what?"

Maduin placed his clenched teeth within centimeters of Argus' face. "Are you calling me a coward, kid?"

"If the pointy elf-shoe fits!"

"Enough!" Sarina wailed. "Let's just put it to a vote already! All in favor of surrendering when faced with impossible odds?"

Maduin, Gilles and Duane raised their hands.

"Wonderful. All in favor of running when necessary but never surrendering?"

Three arms fell while Argus, Kelga and Sarina raised theirs. Kelga glared at Duane angrily, who merely shrugged. The red mage raised his hand however, after getting kicked in the shin.

"You can't vote twice, scrote," Maduin spat.

"I am changing my vote."

"Okay, whatever," Maduin grumbled. "It's decided then. No matter how impossible the situation is, we don't surrender. We run if we can, and I guess we die if we can't."

"You're a damned pessimist," Argus chided, spirits high once again. "We're the Warriors of Light, remember?"

"No, _you're_ the Warriors of Light. I'm just your tour guide. Whatever, let's find a place to set up camp; I think we've had enough excitement for one night. Sorel, you have first watch."

* * *

The heavy, darksteel double doors of the Chaos Shrine's Crystal Chamber opened laboriously. Once there was a big enough gap, Boss Knocker scrambled through with extreme haste.

"GENerAL! GenerAL!"

"What is it?" Garland turned away from Berne and Astos to face the newest arrival.

"I gets a PIGeon froms CapTAIN LaRAK! You WON't beLIEVE this!" The diminutive warlord was practically bouncing in his armor.

"Out with it, fiend!" Astos hissed.

Knocker ignored the slur. Goblins and dark elves didn't make fast friends, after all. "Camp LESion caught some HUMans in their terriTORy! CorNELIAN MERcenARies!"

"Is the Army truly so exhausted?" Sarah whimpered, dejectedly.

Garland turned to the princess. "Apparently so, but it seems the Royal Treasury is not. It doesn't bode well for your father that he's hiring adventurers!"

"I cannot believe that Elfheim failed to conquer you weaklings!" Astos snickered.

"More imPORtant!" Knocker interrupted. He waddled up to Garland and pointed at the Dark Crystal draped over his breastplate. "They HAD crysTALs! CRYStals like THAT one!"

"Impossible!" Lord Berne's red eyes were wide. "Could it be?"

"What?" Garland demanded.

"The Warriors of Light," Sarah offered. "The prophesied saviors of the world."

"A children's fairy tale!" The dark knight scoffed.

"Hardly!" Berne huffed. "This is a disturbing turn of events. If the Warriors of Light have assembled, we don't have much time!" He turned and marched toward the door. "I am returning to Melmond, I have much preparation to do!"

"Why?" Garland's confusion was palpable, even through his face-obscuring helmet. "We have them."

Berne didn't turn around. "Those pathetic imps cannot contain them! Mark my words, General. The Warriors of Light will be on your doorstep within the week!"

Astos cackled malevolently, "I am taking my leave as well, General. I suggest you be ready to retreat if necessary." The air surrounding the dark elf distorted into a whirling black vortex. When it dissipated, the elven king was gone.

"Your ORDERS, Lord?"

Garland stood dumbfounded for a few moments, "Tell your subordinates to execute the prisoners immediately and to bring the Crystals here. Send reinforcements in their direction."

Knocker bowed reverently and waddled out the door.

"Alone at last," Garland said with a predatory sneer.

"Like rats on a sinking ship," Sarah muttered. "How swiftly your new allies abandon you."

Garland spun around and wordlessly stomped to where Sarah was chained to the wall. He removed his right gauntlet and back-handed her across the face. "Insolent wench! I wield the Dark Crystal! The four Prime Elements cannot compare to the power of darkness!"

"Although baseless declarations lack truth, wrote repetition brings solace through delusional belief."

Garland punched her, hard. But Sarah didn't relent. "The Warriors of Light will slay you, Siegfried!"

Garland laughed, "Trust me, _Princess_. They won't even get that far."

* * *

Green fields and verdant, rolling hills stretched out for as far as the eye could see. The scene was like something out of Argus' childhood. In fact, it _was_ a scene from Argus' childhood. It was the city of Melmond. Although in the heart of the most agrarian of the dwarven provinces, it was a bustling city. Beyond the relatively short stone walls were a series of windmills and haystacks. It was a very tranquil and picturesque view of what was literally the world's bread basket. Argus skipped merrily; the soft, fertile soil felt nice under his bare feet. Several paces ahead of him, Liam tested out the new plow he had wrought. It sliced through the tough sod like a hot knife through butter. The plow left two neat rows of fresh, nutrient-rich topsoil. Liam's client would be most pleased. The dwarven blacksmith's prices were quite agreeable, and a finer tool simply didn't exist. The humans who tended the farm would probably use it for wheat or barley; Argus' stomach growled.

He sped up to Liam and tugged at the old dwarf's cloak. Although Argus was only a small boy, he was practically as tall as his guardian. What is it, laddie? Liam ruffled the boy's hair affectionately and looked up at the sun- which was already high in the sky. Ah, that's right. It's about that time, it is. Let's go intae town and get us some lunch The blacksmith abandoned the plow where it was and started down the dusty path toward Melmond.

Argus knew what would happen next; he also knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Sure enough, as the surrogate father and adoptive son trotted down the road, the clear sky became overcast. Thick, black clouds blotted out the sun with unbelievable speed, and a chilly wind rolled over the plains. Argus hugged himself tightly. He didn't wear a shirt- what with it being an unseasonably warm spring- and he was now frightfully cold. Oddly enough, Liam didn't seem to notice the sudden and drastic change in the weather. Worse than the biting chill, however, was Argus' awareness of his care giver's impending doom.

As the pair passed a large, dead oak tree surrounded by a patch of pumpkins, Argus' anxiety reached its climax. Despite the lack of sun, the dead tree had a long, prominent shadow that spanned the width of the road. The little human boy stopped dead in his tracks and collapsed to his knees. He tried to call out to Liam, but he could barely breathe. As the dwarf obliviously planted one foot and then the other into the shadow, the beast attacked. With an otherworldly howl that sounded like wind the shadow rendered itself into a solid form. A hideous, gigantic skeletal claw grasped at the dwarf, clutching him in its inhuman fist. Liam was rather corpulent, but in a healthy way. Nevertheless, the dwarf became instantly emaciated the second he made contact with the claw. Within seconds, the last of Liam's flesh rotted off his skeleton, and the bones themselves turned to dust and blew away. Argus wanted to run. His mind _screamed_ at him to turn and flee the way he came, but his legs would not comply. Empty-handed again, the giant claw opened once more and thrust its spindly hand at Argus with blinding speed. Argus tried to scream, but he failed to even exhale.

Argus Baron, now eighteen years old and entirely safe, woke with a gasp. Disoriented, he patted the ground around him, making contact with the sleeping bodies of Gilles and Maduin. He sighed in relief. _It was a dream,_ He thought. _Just a dream. That same nightmare. Sarina said I should expect them. Curse this damned jewel _Argus looked down at the Earth Crystal that hung about his neck and snorted. _What would that accomplish? It's already cursed AND damned _Slowly, as not to disturb his fellow warriors, he freed himself from his sleeping bag and exited the tent. It was a clear night, and the moon was still mostly full. The campfire from earlier had gone out, but the embers still burned with a faint orange glow. It was Sarina's watch, apparently, as she was the only one sitting on the log staring at the dying coals.

"Bored yet?" Argus stomped over to Sarina and sat down next to her.

"Mm, I'm too tired to be bored." The healer sighed. The fatigue from their exploits earlier that night still had her down. "Why are you up? You already had your watch."

"I... ah, had a bad dream," the fighter offered, somewhat embarrassed.

"You mean...?"

"Yeah, THAT kind. More vivid than I really remember them, gods that was horrible."

Sarina idly nudged a red chunk of coal with the handle of her hammer. "Yes, they are. After some persuasion, Gilles recounted his nightmare to me. The overall theme appears to be similar, but the setting, context and antagonists are different. For fear of stating the obvious, I would attribute this to the fact that each Crystal governs a different element."

"Yeah, you get attacked by a water monster, right?" Argus cracked his knuckles and stretched, still fairly tired despite his unpleasant dream.

"A kraken, more specifically," Sarina suppressed a shudder. "Gilles is attacked by some kind of multi-headed dragon."

"Makes sense," Argus yawned. "Dragons can fly. What I don't get is what a giant skeleton has to do with the earth."

"Giant... skeleton?" Sarina seemed puzzled as well.

"Yeah, and not the whole thing either. Just the hand, it seems to be able to suck the life out of whatever it touches. Some kind of undead?"

"I wouldn't know. It doesn't seem to fit well with the earth power it apparently corrupts..."

"Well, it did come out of the ground, if that helps."

"We don't know how reliable these visions are to begin with," Sarina stated flatly. "We probably shouldn't put too much stock in them. Perhaps it's part of the curse inflicting the Crystals, intended to discourage us, and there's no real monsters associated with them at all."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to anticipate an enormous freaking skeleton, just to be safe."

"That's probably a wise choice."

The two sat in silence for a few moments. Despite the stench from the nearby peat bogs, the campsite was relatively relaxing. Frogs and cicadas croaked and chirped in the swamp to the north, while crickets and owls composed a chorus in the woods to the south. In the clearing where they sat, a chill breeze blew through; extinguishing the last of their campfire. Sarina slid across the log, closer to Argus, and leaned against him gently.

"Heh, you cold?" Argus blushed. "Erm, we could restart the fire if you want..."

"Mm, no. Let Gilles sleep," Sarina murmured, resting her full weight on his body and tucking her head into his neck. "Unless... unless this bothers you?"

"Uh, no! Not at all!" It was fortunate for the young fighter that it was so dark, as his face was a fiery shade of red. "I guess this... this means..."

"It means your body is warm," Sarina chuckled.

"Oh..." The warrior sounded more than a little disappointed.

Sarina sat up slowly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just... I mean, I thought... Would you?"

"I know language isn't your strong suit," Sarina chided, "but really..."

"I love you!" Argus choked. "There, I said it. You saved my life. I know that's your job, but you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. That's not to say that's all there is to it, but you really are gorgeous. You're also smart and kind and funny sometimes. I've never told you this before, but you're the first friend I've had since Liam died. The first... family I've had since Liam died. You're right, I'm not that good with words. I'm really not that smart, either I just-"

Sarina embraced him in a long, deep kiss. Argus merely sat there stunned at first, but once he understood what was happening he reciprocated with great enthusiasm. When it concluded, they were both short of breath.

"You told me once that actions speak louder than words," Sarina whispered as she guided Argus' hands toward her chest. "Why don't you stay in my tent tonight?"

* * *

Kelga and Duane sat cross-legged, across from one another inside their tent. Kelga's eyes were closed and his hands were outstretched, palms held inward and parallel to each other. Duane continued his lecture, "The most basic concept that any spell caster must understand is mana. Without mana living beings cannot make contact with the stuff of the ether."

"Ether? You mean ethyl alcohol?"

Duane laughed, "No, a parallel dimension that doesn't naturally come into contact with or otherwise affect our universe. Gilles would call it 'magic space'. When one does magic, they're doing something that would otherwise be impossible. In order to violate established physical laws, energy and complex matter of alien origin must be introduced- brought into the otherwise closed system that is our universe."

"Heh, seems simple enough."

Duane shrugged, "Conceptual understanding and putting that knowledge to practical use are two entirely different things. You were the old man's protégé, were you not? I assume you have some basic understanding of chemistry?"

"I can manage."

"Good. In the broadest possible sense, a magical spell can be thought of like a reaction. The effects and products manifest themselves in our world, but the energy and a majority of the reactants come from the ether. To continue the analogy, mana can be thought of as a catalyst. It provides the necessary starting energy to breach the barrier between worlds."

"What exactly is mana?"

Duane laughed again, "It depends entirely on who you ask. The most basic definition is self-serving: Mana is the energy that a being utilizes for spell casting. But… I assume you want an explanation that is closer to reality. White mages, black mages and members of my own vocation have competing theories in regards to exactly _what_ mana is."

"What do red mages say?"

"Aha, that's probably not the best explanation for a layman such as yourself; especially considering that you have no interest in white magic. For our purposes, the black mage's explanation should be sufficient."

Kelga filled his voice with faux impatience, "Well, what is that?"

"Ahem, theoretically speaking, the dimensional relationship between our universe and 'magic space' is not entirely parallel. The ether only affects our world when magic is being performed, but _our_ world has a constant impact on the ether. Hypothetically speaking, everything in this universe affects the fabric of the ether. Black mages propose no mechanism for this, but it _is_ self-consistent within the greater theoretical framework of black magic. It's only when one considers the other schools of magic that a conflict emerges. A unified theory of magic will probably never be proposed within our lifetime, if ever. So, because you only want to use black magic you're better off allowing yourself to believe the world is really the way Gilles says it is."

"Okay, but you're rambling again. What is mana?"

"Ah, my apologies. Mana is a literal fluid substance that resides in the ether. Sentient beings or sufficiently complex inanimate structures naturally attract and accumulate mana."

"So people have a reserve of mana built up inside them," Kelga mused.

"Not exactly," Duane corrected. "If mana were a proven and not purely theoretical substance, it could be extracted and held in isolation."

"But weren't the goblin prison arrays doing just that?" Kelga interrupted.

Duane shook his head. "As it stands, no one has ever observed pure mana in its natural state. The intuitive conclusion is, of course, that mana doesn't exist; at least not as a distinct form of matter, exotic or not. This brings us back to the dictionary definition- that mana is merely a form of potential energy; the ability to perform magic. Our actual physical makeup remained unaltered, even though the mana drain had physiological and psychosomatic effects. The array, likewise, was unaltered in regards to its basic properties. Magical potential merely flowed from the victim to the array. No verifiable matter transfer actually took place, so you can see how the classification of mana as a fluid substance is problematic."

"But you said it was self-consistent within the field of black magic. How do black mages explain such observations?"

"Because," Duane explained, "Mana cannot be verified because it doesn't exist in our world, but rather the parallel dimension of 'magic space'. Remember how I said everything in this universe affects the ether? Our beings, souls, whatever you want to call them, have corresponding shadows in 'magic space' and those shadows collect and store mana _there_. In other words, magic is actually initiated in that world. Mana breaches the barrier there and the required energy and complex matter crosses over. The only thing we really do here is manipulate ether-bound mana via our mere existence."

"Okay…"

"I'm sorry; I said all that to say this: You're essentially right. Whatever mana is, it's created and/or accumulated by us and then stored within us. The fact that the accumulation doesn't actually take place in our world is largely superfluous. For all intents and purposes, the effects are the same."

"Okay, I think I understand. Go on."

Duane cleared his throat and took a sip from his canteen. "Hold that position, Kelga." He placed his hand on the small magic circle etched into the dirt floor of the tent. The lines began to glow and the candles spontaneously ignited. "First, you must get a feel for your inner reserve of mana. Without it, you won't be able to use magic; period."

"I think I understand but, do I even have mana? How can I access it?"

"The amount of mana you accumulate and can manipulate is determined by your intellect and clarity of mind. Everyone has at least some mana at their disposal. It is either in amounts insufficient to produce any real results or they lack the training to put it to use. Mages accumulate and are able to manipulate large amounts of mana due to their considerable intelligence or strength of will. The former is attained by accident of birth, the latter through rigorous spiritual training. You're already subconsciously aware of your mana reserves. All that remains is to push that awareness to the surface of your consciousness."

"How do I do that?"

"You're doing it right now. It's not a process that's easy to explain, and I happen to believe that it varies from person to person. For laypeople such as yourself, meditation seems to be the most reliable way."

"What about incantations?"

"Aha, I was getting to that. Mana and incantations are two sides of the same coin. Without either a magic spell ends in failure. Mana provides the energy to initiate the spell, but the incantation provides the complexity necessary to guide and manifest its effects. If you really want to learn black magic, there's really only one good way to go about it. You need to learn Hermetic."

Kelga's eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Aha, heh, you really shouldn't worry too much. Yes, it is a rather difficult language. Divine is considerably easier, but I'm sure you'll manage. After all, I'm here to help-"

Kelga glared at Duane with his finger to his lips. His expression was deadly serious. "Do you hear that?" He whispered.

Duane shook his head slowly, perplexed.

"We've got trouble," Kelga knelt down and extinguished the candles. Then, silently, he spun around and exited the tent.

* * *

Argus woke in a cold sweat, wild-eyed and gasping for breath. Kelga, startled, immediately withdrew the hand he was using to prod the fighter awake.

"Argus? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The recent commotion had roused Maduin, who did not seem pleased to see him, if indeed he could see him. His eyes were barely open and his face was covered in grizzly stubble. "Vasquez? The hell? What's going on?"

"I heard metal."

"What?"

_Shh!_ "I heard metal. There's a very large group of heavily armed… things headed our way."

Maduin rubbed his temples wearily, "Where the hell is Gilles? Isn't it his watch? He better not be asleep!"

Kelga shook his head, "No, he was wide awake. It's not his fault. The sound is really faint. He's waking Sarina at the moment."

"Faint? Are you sure it's not _imaginary_?"

"Would you be quiet? I'm positive this is the real deal. Maybe we didn't lose the goblins after all…"

Argus was still staring wide-eyed at nothing in particular, but his breaths had finally become slow and steady.

Maduin grimaced, "Baron, what the hell? Are you all right, man?"

Argus shook his head, "I'm… I'm fine. I'm going to get my things."

Outside, Gilles and Sarina joined Duane around the extinguished campfire. The early morning sky was a deep blue as the sun was just below the horizon. Eastern stars were now invisible, save for a few very prominent planets. Further west, however, the night sky was still visible in all its majesty. There was a saying, that stars were at their most brilliant just before they were extinguished. That morning, it certainly seemed that way.

"Okay, what's going on?" Sarina asked, exhausted and disheveled.

"Kelga thinks he heard something," Duane answered simply.

Sarina sighed and closed her eyes. After a few moments, her blank, neutral expression gave way to incredulity. She opened her eyes, "I don't sense anything."

"Really? Nothing at all?" Gilles' eyes were especially bright that morning.

Sarina shook her head, "No, nothing. Just the normal forest life. Are you sure he didn't hear a deer or something?"

"He swore to me that he heard the distinct clanking of metal," Duane adjusted his hat. The plume drooped in the morning mist, reflecting the humor of the entire group.

Argus was first out of the last occupied tent. He was sweating profusely, his face pallid and ghost-like.

"Argus? What's wrong?" Sarina asked, genuinely concerned.

"Nothing. Everything's fine." In the opening, with more room to maneuver, he began latching his plate mail together. "It happened again. I'll tell you later."

Maduin was only a few moments behind him, looking angry. He was followed in short order by Kelga, looking sheepish. The white monk grunted, "Sarina, do you sense anything?"

"Nothing, Maduin."

"Damn it, Vasquez! There's nothing out there," he sighed. "Whatever. It's almost dawn anyway. Let's break camp and get a move on."

"Can't I bathe first?" Sarina groaned.

"What's the point? We're crossing the swamp today. We'll all need to bathe after that's over with."

"I could have sworn…" Kelga whined.

* * *

The group had spent the better part of the day slogging through the Hykavir Marsh. It was absolutely miserable. The putrid water was uniformly almost a meter in depth, and it could give way to a nigh-bottomless sinkhole without warning. The thick, tough swamp grass made the already slow going almost inexorable. Although there weren't any trees, the swamp was interspersed with thick patches of knee-high thorny bramble. And then there were the parasites. Swarms of mosquitoes coalesced to form choking clouds of disease-ridden, blood sucking irritation. Every couple kilometers a leech would find its way into the last place one would want a leech attached. Of more dire concern were the leeches' larger, monstrous cousins. Gigas worms were the dominant predator/scavenger in that area, and solitary prowlers had attacked the group on three separate occasions. Guide books told the adventurer that gigas worms had a severe allergy to flame, but they neglected to explain _why_. The first worm the party encountered Gilles promptly dispatched with a well-placed Fire spell. Although the beast was instantly incinerated, the spell had the unintended effect of igniting the dense swamp gas. The group actually had to submerge themselves in the sludge in order to escape the short-lived but ravenous firestorm. Not a pleasant experience. The next two worms encountered were dispatched with Argus' broadsword. By midday, the intense heat of the high sun coupled with the oppressive humidity made the march almost unbearable. Each adventurer was sweating profusely, but the sweat wouldn't evaporate and thus did precious little to actually cool them. Finally, _mercifully_ the party reached a logjam. Exhausted, they hoisted themselves up and out of the muck, chugging from canteens and ridding themselves of any remaining leeches.

"This… This is the worst place in the world." Argus huffed.

Maduin laughed bitterly, "You haven't seen much of the world then, have you? Far to the south, in Elfheim, there's a vast marsh that makes this one look like a puddle. It's hotter, too, and full of ogres and undead. I wouldn't even call _that_ the worst place in the world."

"Is there an alternative to returning via this route?" Gilles growled, more to the point.

"Not really".

"What would you say…" Argus dumped the last of his canteen over his head. "What _would_ you call the worst place in the world?"

"Hmm, that's a tough one… I'd say the mountains north of Crescent Lake."

"Have you ever been to the Northland?" Gilles asked.

"No, never. Why?"

"South of Hawkeye- that's where I'm from, you know it as Gaia- there's a country called Hawkwing; also known as Lufenia."

"The lost civilization?" Sarina was instantly interested.

"Yes. It's a rainforest, a jungle. It's beautiful, the most beautiful place I've ever seen, but it's really hot and humid; kind of like this place. It rains constantly, and the ruins are booby trapped with all manner of physical and magical hazards. The flora and fauna aren't exactly agreeable either. The monsters especially. There are creatures prowling the jungles of Hawkwing that the rest of the world only knows from fossils."

"Wow," Sarina murmured. "I never really explored my continent outside of Onrac. There are some caravans in the desert to the west, but the majority of the continent is largely uninhabited. Onrac is a virtual paradise… Or, at least, it used to be."

Argus nodded, "Same goes for Duergar. What about you, Duane? You're pretty well-traveled, aren't you? What's the worst place you've ever been?"

"Sorel Manor," Duane spat.

Maduin rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. The life of an aristocrat is absolutely arduous, I'm sure. Pathetic."

Kelga shrugged, wringing the perspiration out of his bandana. "I don't know. I'd still take this place over Pravoka."

"That's different, that's-" Maduin stopped speaking abruptly and turned to Sarina, who merely shrugged. He turned back to Kelga, "Vasquez?"

"You hear it too? It's not just me then? I wasn't going to say anything!"

"No I heard it. Metal. Nothing in a swamp makes a noise like that but Argus."

"I'm telling you. I honest to gods don't sense anything," Sarina looked very worried.

"That's okay," Maduin reassured her. "Maybe they've got some kind of talisman that'd make them undetectable?"

"It's possible, I suppose. Would goblins really have something like that?" The white mage closed her eyes, appearing to redouble her efforts.

"So far our adversaries have been inordinately well-equipped," Duane pointed out. "With Garland and possibly Duergar backing them, we should be expecting anything."

"Duergar is not helping the goblins!" Argus shouted angrily.

"Quiet!" Maduin yelled, "Now is not the time! Would they have something to make them invisible?"

"Invisible?" Duane scoffed, incredulously. "That's second level white magic, and artifacts possessing that effect are some of the most sought after in the entire world. I highly doubt it."

"Didn't you just say we should be expecting anything?"

Argus climbed up higher on the logjam, next to Maduin and his vantage point. "This 'mist' is almost like steam. Anything could be hiding in there."

"Well, they're definitely not underwater. Goblins have to breathe."

Silently, six pairs of eyes scanned the horizon, but it was a futile effort. The thick fog reduced visibility to near zero. Billowing gray storm clouds gathered with surprising speed, blotting out the sun. "Well, let's get a move on. Whatever's trailing us, I want to fight them on dry land."

"I agree there," Argus jumped from the logjam, splashing loudly back into the bayou. "Before all this mist gathered, I thought I saw a tree line. We should be pretty close to the northern shore, so-"  
Argus' sentence was terminated in a shocked gasp as he was suddenly pulled underwater.

"Argus! Argus!" Sarina wailed.

"Heads up, everyone!" Maduin shouted. "We're under attack!"

"What about Argus?" Sarina cried. Her entreaty was punctuated by a deafening clap of thunder. "Something pulled him under! He's going to drown!"

Maduin nodded, "Everyone, stay up here!"

Without another word, he dove into the water at the exact point where Argus had disappeared. The remaining four strained to see anything beneath the murky surface, but to no avail. With all eyes focused on a single square meter of swamp water, even Kelga was caught off guard when a short sword was hurled into Sarina's back with a heavy thud. She screamed and pitched forward off her log and into the water. As soon as she hit the surface, she too was pulled under and disappeared from sight. The remaining three instantly spun around to face their assailants, who apparently no longer saw a need to conceal themselves. They were skeletons. Human skeletons animated with profane arcana and held together with dark magic. They wielded blunt, rusty broadswords and wore heavy reddish-brown iron pauldrons. Their empty eye sockets seemed to glower at the three for an instant just before they suddenly threw their swords at their next victims. Kelga and Duane closed ranks in front of Gilles and, miraculously, caught the thrown weapons with superhuman ease. The first rank of skeletons, now unarmed, charged through the water toward the humans. Gilles immediately took advantage of the situation, casting a hasty Blizzard spell. The moisture in the air condensed and became super-cooled. The resulting projectile was hurled toward the nearest pair of skeletons at incredible speed, but once it struck it merely shattered. The skeletons were unfazed by the extreme cold. Instead, the faceless monsters closed the gap and leapt into the air. Duane raised his rapier defensively while Kelga threw a dagger at his skeleton. The weapon lodged itself securely in the ancient skull, but did nothing to impede the beast's progress. Both were tackled by their attackers and knocked into the swamp water. Gilles, suddenly off balance, flailed piteously and fell backward into the water with the rest of his comrades.

Gilles Arkham couldn't swim, but it didn't matter. Unlike the others, he hadn't been directly attacked and was held under by nothing but gravity. To get his head above the water all he needed to do was stand up. As he did so a brilliant flash of light sent a heavy spray of water in all directions. Maduin breached the surface with Argus in tow, sucking as much air as his lungs could hold. He shoved the unconscious armor-bound fighter against the logjam and promptly turned toward the splashing that betrayed Kelga and Duane's perilous position. He jumped behind one skeleton as it attempted to drown the thief. Maduin grasped the skeleton's skull and it released its grasp immediately, immolated in a white hot flash that seemed to erase the monster from existence. When the smoke cleared, there was literally no trace of the fiend. Kelga was on his feet instantly, coughing and sputtering. Maduin executed a quick hop over to Duane's position and repeated the exorcism.

"Did you find Sarina?" Kelga shouted.

"What?" Maduin turned abruptly, the skeleton he held in a headlock was quickly reduced to ash.

"Sarina was pulled under too," Gilles explained. "She was hit with a throwing sword. She's injured."

Maduin nodded grimly. "I'll be back." Without another word, he took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface once more. Suddenly cautious once again, the skeletons kept their distance but had the four completely surrounded. There were roughly a dozen, not counting the three or four already eliminated. Once Maduin had disappeared, they began slowly advancing once again.

"I don't like these odds," Kelga quipped.

"I like them just fine," black magic crackled between Gilles' fingers. "Remember that first worm? You two grab Argus. Once I give the signal I want you to duck underwater and take him with you."

"What's the sig- ah, right. Okay!" Kelga waded toward Argus as fast as possible. The drenched, armored fighter was surprisingly heavy, especially for him. "Ready!"

"Dive, now!" Together, the red mage and thief disappeared beneath the surface, dragging Argus with them. Apparently, for the skeletons, out of sight was out of mind. With only the black mage standing before them, they held their swords high and charged. Just as he completed the spell, Gilles dove underwater and the swamp became a sea of flames.

He lingered just as long as his unconditioned lungs would allow. As soon as he could stand it no longer, he stood up once again. Gilles knew what to expect and was not disappointed. The swamp grass was reduced to ashes floating on the surface of the water. The bramble and nearby logjam continued to burn, as did the gnarled remains the skeletons frozen in their attack stance; killed for a second and hopefully final time. Splashing directly behind him signified the other three's survival. Almost immediately afterward, Maduin returned with Sarina in his arms who like Argus was unconscious and blue in the face. The blade had been removed, but she was now bleeding badly. "We don't have much time!" Maduin gasped.

The black mage nodded and cast Blizzard on the burning logjam as quickly as he possibly could. The fire extinguished, the wood was also frozen solid enough to serve as high ground once again. Argus and Sarina's inert mass were hoisted onto the makeshift platform. "Can you do anything?" Maduin demanded of Duane.

The red mage nodded and began casting Cure. Kelga jumped on top of Argus and removed his cuirass, pushing down hard on his chest to expel the water from his lungs. As soon as Duane's Cure was complete Maduin rolled Sarina over and did the same. Surprisingly, the white mage was the first to respond, despite her more dire condition. Soon afterward, Argus coughed and sputtered his way back into the realm of the living. Exhausted, Maduin collapsed in a heap. "I am going to personally kill Garland; slowly and painfully."

* * *

"G- GENerAL?" Knocker hated delivering bad news almost as much as his master disliked receiving it.

Garland sat on an ornate chair at an ornate table, both of which were older than the kingdom he used to serve. He was playing with an antique strategy game against himself; inscrutable pieces on an even more inscrutable board. He had no idea what he was doing. "Out with it."

"It's the BLOODbones. We lost CONtact with the bloodBONES."

With a swift swipe of his mailed wrist, Garland sent the checkered board and its ebony and ivory playing pieces flying. "Berne said they were the best! Is he TRYING to undo me?"

"I DON'T beLIEVE so, GenerAL. They ARE the LIGHT WarrIOrs AFter-"

"Shut up!" Garland bellowed. "Rally the troops. The Warriors of Light will be here tomorrow!"

From her position chained to the wall, Sarah laughed weakly, bitterly. "Beat me if you want, Garland, but that will do nothing to change the fact that I told you so."

"No, but it will make me feel better!"


	23. Chapter 23: Confrontation

Never before had the Warriors of Light seen a more foreboding sight. The ruined, hulking mass of the Chaos Shrine, all fifty meters of it, stretched menacingly up into the night sky. Lightning flashed, serving both to announce an impending rainstorm and to further highlight the ominous scene. The Temple of Fiends, as it was also known, was once an enormous pyramid, but the top three floors had collapsed completely; the remnants creating a jagged pile of rubble that looked for all the world like a spiky crown. To continue the theme, the cavernous main entrance looked like a monstrous maw, ready to devour anyone foolish enough to enter. To either side of the archway stood a goblin pikeman in heavy copper armor. The contours of their uniforms were lined with cloth that was dyed a dark blue, signifying their status as elite guards. Regardless of their rank or experience, the conditions were not in their favor. The six approaching humans were invisible to the naked eye, and the burgeoning thunderstorm drowned out the sound of their footfalls. Almost in unison, the two guards pitched forward among a dark spatter of blood, stabbed in the back of their heads.

"_Simple enough,"_ Argus whispered.

Without another word, the adventurers closed rank and stepped reluctantly into the ancient ruins. On either side of the main entryway were a row of columns, few of which were completely intact. Although the crumbling edifice was still imposing, it likely paled in comparison to what must have existed thousands of years ago; when the cult that constructed the temple was at the height of its power. The pillars, like the huge walls outside, were hewn of gargantuan singular slabs of obsidian; an impossible feat for modern architects. While such constructs were not beyond the Lufenian Empire, the shrine predated the Sky People by almost fifteen hundred years. The Royal Archaeological Society had reached the consensus that magic must have been used in the temple's construction. There was no other possible explanation. The wide corridor stretched off into the darkness, the sparse torches lining the walls and pillars failed to provide sufficient lighting. There could have been anything hiding in the gloom, and there probably was.

"_Which way?_"Sarina queried softly as she flickered back into existence, her invisibility spell failing at last.

One by one, the others regained their opacity. Immediately to their right and left were smaller, more narrow corridors. They were in a worse state of repair than the main hallway, and even more poorly lit. Maduin glanced at both quickly, then turned to point down the main hall. "According to the map, there's an inner sanctum or whatever at the very center of the temple. If we follow this route straight ahead, it should take us to... what was it called? Anyway, it's the center of the shrine."

"And that's where the princess is?" Argus asked impatiently.

The monk shrugged. "How should I know? It's probably the easiest room to defend and-" He stopped abruptly as another pair of goblins clanked toward the entrance- apparently to relieve the guards the warriors had just dispatched.

Kelga muttered a curse under his breath and hurled a pair of throwing knives into the darkness. The imps fell with a crash, but they made no other sound. He turned to the leader. "If we're going to conference, I suggest we at least do it off to the side or something. Not right out in the open like this!"

Maduin nodded and shepherded the group to the west end of the corridor, where they crouched between a pillar and the wall. "Okay," he huffed. "Garland's in here somewhere, most likely close to the princess. I shouldn't need to remind you people that we avoid him if at all possible. That's why I want to check the central chamber last. I'd wager that's where both of them are, but I want to do a quick sweep of the rest of the ground floor. Remember the map. These auxiliary corridors snake around the perimeter of the temple. They swing by several dungeons that can't be counted out just yet. After all, Kelga wasn't able to check all of them."

"The four dungeons are in each of the corner towers," Kelga explained. "There's only one entrance to each of them, but they're surrounded by yet another small corridor. It shouldn't be hard to get in, assuming they aren't sealed from the inside. There's plenty of room to get the jump on any monsters in our way."

"I want us to split up." Maduin stated flatly. "Three of us will take the auxiliary corridor to the east and the other three will take the one to the west. Once we check the southern dungeons we'll head north and check the northern ones. From there we'll continue on towards the center. We'll meet up in the north of the shrine and head south into the inner chamber."

Gilles wheezed. "What if we find the princess? Or Garland? Or both?" The musty air wasn't agreeing with him.

"Don't do anything." Maduin ordered. "Stay out of sight and meet up with the rest of the group. We'll head back to nab the princess if that's the case. Again, avoid Garland like a plague."

Argus was swinging his sword at his own flickering shadow. "Who's going where?"

Maduin's face contorted in earnest thought. "...Argus, Sarina and Gilles. Take the east route. The rest of us will head west. Avoid patrols if possible. Take them out as quickly and quietly as you can if necessary." He motioned to Kelga and Duane. "Okay, let's move out."

Without another word, the six adventurers split into two groups of three and began moving away from each other.

"Okay, what's that noise?" Argus stopped dead in his tracks. The point position in their single file line, the two mages following him were obliged to do the same. He pointed his sword into the musty darkness. "What the hell is that?"

Humanoid shapes were shuffling up and down the passageway. Too tall to be goblins, too bulky to be skeletons. They looked like people, but their movements were slow and laborious. One by one, the shapes turned and started staggering towards the three. Their posture slouched backward in a way that looked painfully unnatural. Their arms were held out straight before them for balance.

"I sense no life in them," Sarina glowered at the gradually approaching creatures.

"That's because there isn't any." Gilles answered. As the shapes waddled into view, one could plainly see that he was right. They were human, or at least had been at one time. They were animated corpses, kept in a perpetual state of undeath by dark magic. Unlike the skeletons the group had faced previously, these shambling subhumans still retained most of their rotting flesh. Most likely recent victims of Garland's war, they were driven only by their desire to feed. They could sustain their bodies indefinitely with a steady supply of fresh meat, and three hearty kills stood before them here and now.

"Zombies," Sarina spat with contempt. "What a disgusting perversion of life this is! If there were such a thing as an ultimate sin, you're looking at it right now. These souls are trapped forever in a world of miserable pain and hunger."

"Uh, they're getting closer." Argus pointed out.

Gilles coughed. "They probably burn well." He gestured toward the approaching targets. "Shall I?"

"No," Sarina shook her head. "They're mine."

"What are you going to do?" Argus had spent more time with the white mage than any of the others. In all that time he had yet to see her attack in a way that didn't involve swinging a hammer. Although the zombies were desperately slow, their gaping jaws and vicious claws made melee combat very dangerous. A quick Fire spell probably was the way to go.

Sarina's response was in Divine. She began chanting a spell that Argus had never heard before. Sarina's aura flared up, just like it always did whenever she used magic, but all familiarity ceased there. From her outstretched hands shot a beam of searing white light. The beam dispersed to bathe every zombie in golden luminescence that looked not unlike sunlight. The zombies gasped and moaned as their rotting flesh was burned from their bones. In a few seconds it was all over, their naked skeletons had disintegrated before they even hit the ground.

"Wow," Argus whistled, impressed. "How come you've never used that spell before?"

Sarina didn't look jubilant. Her expression was still one of intense disgust. "That was Dia. I never use it because its utility is severely limited. It's really little more than concentrated sunlight, but the fragile flesh and bones of the undead possess a severe allergy to it."

"Very impressive, Sarina." Gilles agreed. "Let's continue."

"Find anything?" Maduin leaned against the doorway to the dungeon in the southeast tower.

"How do I look?" The thief grinned. He was wearing a tall, steepled hat very much like the one Gilles wore, only this one was crafted from sturdy leather instead of straw. He made his hands into claws and pointed them at Duane, who was on lookout. "Thunder! Bzzap!"

The monk rolled his eyes. "Anything else in there?"

Kelga doffed the hat. "Nope. I butchered a couple of big green dogs though. They were scary. Nothing else of interest. The cells were empty."

"Werewolves, probably." Duane was all business. "Hang on to that hat, Kelga. Gilles might want it."

"You mean he can change hats!?" Kelga gasped in mock astonishment.

"Come on," Maduin growled. "The others are expecting us."

"This one's locked too." Argus tugged on the heavy double doors, but to no avail. "That's one hell of a spell!"

"Is it the same enchantment?" Sarina was referring to the door of the dungeon in the southeast corner of the shrine. It had been sealed with powerful magic that neither the healer nor the wizard could dispel.

Gilles patted the door up and down. "Yeah," he grunted. "Same stuff. I've never seen anything like it. That's saying a lot, too. I'm a spellbreaker by vocation."

"You mean Garland did this?" Argus was incredulous. "He's a better enchanter than either of you? How are we supposed to get to the princess now?"

"The princess isn't behind these doors," Gilles muttered, annoyed.

"These seals have been in place for a very long time," Sarina explained indulgently. "Hundreds of years at least."

"There must be something really important inside, then!" Argus bounced up and down as he gave the handle another tug. "Maybe really awesome weapons or armor!"

"We'll never know, because we'll never open it!" Encountering magical phenomena beyond his understanding always put Gilles in a poor humor "Now let's go!"

"Any good swag in that one?" Maduin stood outside the northwest dungeon expectantly.

Kelga had returned with an armload. "Must have been a storeroom of some kind. I mean, yeah, it's a dungeon, obviously. But archaeologists must have left this here, since it isn't the kind of stuff goblins would use or undead would need."

"What is it?"

"I found a disposable tent and a bottle of healing potion. There wasn't anything else of use."

"What's that all over you?"

"Oh, this?" Kelga handed the goods to Maduin and started brushing himself off furiously. "Cobwebs. There was a huge freaking web in there. Kind of gross, really." He frowned as he glanced at Duane, who was standing there pointing at him. The red mage's mouth was agape and his eyes were wide. On top of that, his face was flushed of all color. "What's with you?"

Duane didn't say anything, he just started walking backwards.

Kelga and Maduin both turned to follow his gaze. Slowly descending from the ceiling was the largest spider any of them had ever seen. Its spindly legs were at least three meters in length and its bulbous, black abdomen was adorned with a fiery red spot in the shape of an hourglass. Eight red eyes focused on the three humans. The arachnid's primitive ganglion had concluded that they were full of delicious juices.

"Fry it," Maduin commanded in a hushed tone. "Duane, fry it now!"

Before the giant black widow touched down it was greeted with a large fireball. The spider made a rattling noise like broken glass as it fell to the ground. It thrashed briefly as it burned alive. Eventually, it folded up into a ball of legs and stopped moving. The spell completed, Duane spun around and vomited all over the temple floor.

"He really doesn't like spiders," Kelga explained.

"What took you guys so long?" Argus chided, good-naturedly.

"A better question would be how did you guys get here so quick?" Kelga looked genuinely confused. "I thought I was pretty damned efficient. I had to clean out the dungeons, you know."

"You mean you could get inside yours?"

"You mean you _couldn't?_"

"The southeast and northeast dungeons were sealed tight," Sarina explained. "We got here so quickly because we couldn't get inside. Not much to do in that case, you understand."

"Well, that does explain it," Maduin agreed. He nodded to Gilles. "I never thought a petty lock would stop you. You said both of them were sealed?"

"Maybe I should go have a look at them." Kelga offered.

"No, you don't understand." Sarina sighed. "They were sealed with magic. It wasn't Garland's doing, either, so the princess isn't there." She gestured down the south corridor. "That leaves one place we haven't looked."

"Yeah, I suspected as much," the white monk concurred. "Damn it, I don't like this. We didn't encounter anything but animal type monsters. Where are all the guards?"

Sarina nodded. "Yes, it does seem like Garland has entrusted temple security to dumb beasts. We ran into a pack of zombies and a couple of skeletons." She turned to Maduin and shrugged. "Maybe the bulk of his forces are at the front?" She offered hopefully. The sentiment was meant to be reassuring, but she didn't sound like she believed it herself.

"Or maybe we're waltzing into one big trap."

"Whatever!" Argus threw up his arms in exasperation. "We know where she is now. Let's finish this job and get out of here!"

Maduin rolled his eyes. "Does the prospect of facing Cornelia's greatest swordsman really make no nevermind to you?"

"If we have no other options, standing around and moaning about it isn't going to do any good. The six of us can take him!"

"Oh!" Kelga removed his pack and thrust an arm down into it. "I almost forgot! I found something for you, Gilles."

"What?" The wizard looked mildly interested, but none too hopeful.

Kelga produced the wadded up leather hat and shook it open. "It looked like something a black mage would wear, so I got it for you."

Gilles' eyes had widened slightly. "Why... thank you." He accepted the article from Kelga. "This is very nice indeed. Yes, I think I'll use this."

"You have to put it on right here!" Kelga grinned viciously. "In front of us!"

"Not a chance," the wizard shuffled off to change hats safely behind a pillar.

"Okay," Maduin announced. "We'll be splitting up one more time. Same groups as before. We'll circle the central chamber and look for an alternate way in." He scratched his head. "To tell the truth, I'm not all that hopeful, but I'm also not going to use the main entrance unless there really is no alternative. Keep your eyes peeled."

None of the six had found a weakness in the central chamber's very solid wall. The two groups had reunited in front of the large, heavy double doors that stood between them and the almost certain location of the princess. They were now closer to their objective than ever before, but each of them were filled with an intense anxiety. Because although Princess Sarah was definitely beyond that massive portal, so was Garland.

"Don't worry," Kelga tried to reassure the defeated monk. "We can still sneak inside. We have that invisibility magic, after all."

"What's the point?" Maduin sighed, swiping a hand towards the huge doorway. "There's no way we can open that without whoever's inside noticing. No, this is it. Every one of you, get ready. Remember your training. Remember everything you've learned on the way here. If we're at all lucky, it will just be Garland." He hung his head. "I did everything I could to avoid this, but it looks like we'll have to confront him after all."

"It's not your fault." Argus was having a hard time containing his excitement. "Like you said, you did everything you could. Now it's time to show them what the Warriors of Light are made of!" He jerked on the right hand door and swung it open with a loud, rusty groan. Once there was a large enough opening he immediately stomped inside. "Let's kick some ass!"

The Chaos Shrine's central chamber was shaped like the inside of a sphere. The center platform was a cross-shaped pathway connected to the walls of the vault. The bridge spanned a deep abyss, the depth of which was anyone's guess. This room had the best lighting in the entire temple. On the north end of the room a green haired girl in a filthy dress lay sprawled on the cold, tomb-like floor, unconscious. In the center of the chamber was a golden altar that sported a large, black crystal. The spherical gem seemed to distort the air around it. Several bats shrieked and flapped about the ceiling as the Warriors of Light entered the sanctuary. Brooding over the huge, black crystal was a tall man in wicked, darksteel armor and purple cape.

As the six resigned adventurers filed in he whirled around to face them. "Who's there!?" Garland demanded, his voice reverberating inside his helmet.

Argus clutched the hilt of his broadsword with both hands. "We're the Warriors of Light. We've come for the princess."

The dark knight snorted contemptuously. "Hmph! The king's lapdogs! Do you have _any_ idea who you're messing with?"

"Yes, General, we do." Sarina brandished her cudgel and closed ranks with Argus. The remaining four fanned out into their preferred positions, weapons drawn.

"Oh, ho! It's that snooty little bitch from Prontera! Lady... what was it? Alexander?"

"Alexandra," Sarina corrected coolly. "Sarina Alexandra. On behalf of the gods I'm going to see to it that judgment is served!"

"Whatever," Garland shrugged. He glanced back and forth between the others. "I'm afraid I don't know the rest of you..." His electric, glowing eyes settled on Duane. "You! Albino! Have we met before? You seem familiar."

Duane didn't feel like correcting Garland's assessment of his complexion. "My name is Duane Sorel," he stated simply.

"Ah! AH HAHA! Wonderful! It's Anton's little brother! I'm going to enjoy killing you!"

"You won't be killing any more people!" Argus exclaimed. "Not without getting through me!"

Garland cocked his head. "You really think you have what it takes to cross swords with ME?"

Argus didn't so much as blink.

"...Very well. I, Garland, will... KNOCK YOU ALL DOWN!!"

Argus didn't get a chance to mock that last very pathetic line, because the dark knight was upon him instantly. Garland's steel longsword crashed against Argus' iron broadsword, again and again. Argus had never before encountered such a fast and ferocious onslaught. He parried what he could through sheer luck, but in mere seconds he had sustained several vicious slash wounds that had penetrated his armor. The young fighter fell backwards, the momentum kept his body rolling in a decidedly awkward position. When the warrior stopped rolling, he didn't get up.

"Argus!" Sarina rushed to his side.

Garland hissed and leveled his sword at the vulnerable healer. He knew better than to allow the mages to sit back and cast with impunity. If he eliminated the white mage here and now, the remaining 'warriors' would be at a terrible disadvantage. He charged, but before he could penetrate the frail healer the white monk swept in with a blur and snatched her away to safety. Garland abruptly changed direction and charged for a very terrified Duane who didn't have time to cast any spells. Rather than parry the strikes with his flimsy rapier, the red mage leapt to safely. Garland growled, looking for all the world like an enraged, metal minotaur. That anger certainly didn't subside when three throwing knives crashed harmlessly against his back. He whirled around to face Kelga, who tossed another three, deftly aiming for the opening in his visor. The daggers would have made their mark too, had Garland not deflected them with an impossibly precise swing of his sword.

Having ensured Sarina's safety, Maduin leapt down directly in front of Garland. Despite his fierce opponent, the black belt's demeanor was as calm as ever. Surprisingly, the dark knight didn't charge immediately. He apparently knew what he was dealing with, and didn't want to give the deadly fighter the slightest advantage. In that instant of hesitation, Garland was struck by a black haze which bound his shadow in place and burdened him with a terrible, illusionary weight. From his relatively safe vantage point, Duane had nailed him with a Focus spell. The dark knight's movements wouldn't be quite so blindingly fast now.

That was all the opportunity Maduin needed. Exploiting Garland's enfeebled state, he delivered an impossibly powerful roundhouse kick to his opponent's face, sending him flying backwards into the Black Crystal. The impact was punctuated by the cacophonous crash of metal against crystal. No sooner had Garland righted himself then had Kelga dashed in and snatched the steel longsword right out of his hand. Unarmed, he lunged after the thief with an irate roar, but had little hope of catching him.

"Everyone! Get down!" Gilles shouted. "Thunder!" A vicious, blue bolt of lightning shot forth from both of his outstretched hands. The spell snapped and hissed as it arced toward Garland's very metal armor, which drank up the electricity eagerly. Garland stopped instantly, making no sound at first; just shuddering violently while standing upright. But as Gilles continued to pour more energy into him, he began to wail in agony and rage as his flesh was welded to the inside of his mail. The runes on his armor glowed with indigo light and smoke poured out from between the joints. The air stank with burning flesh, hair and ozone. After the screaming stopped, the black mage finally relented, allowing Garland's body to darken and cool where it stood locked in place; that is until a recently-revived Argus crashed into it with his shoulder, sending it careening into the abyss like a cast iron rag doll. After the count of three, a sickening crunch echoed up from the bottom of the pit, proving that there was, in fact, a bottom.

"We... we did it," Maduin gasped, dropping to his knees on the temple floor. "We actually did it."

"Well, there are six of us," Gilles pointed out. "A general isn't much good without his army."

"But that was Wyrmkiller Garland," Duane seemed as astonished with himself as Maduin. "The man who single-handedly felled the Red Dragon of Lariat!"

"Yeah? Well we're the Warriors of Light," Argus beamed, jubilantly. "The men- er, and woman- who felled Wyrmkiller Garland!" He strode over to where the young woman lay sprawled. Eyes open, but staring blankly at nothing in particular. Argus knelt down next to her and and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Hey there, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

The green-haired girl was incredibly beautiful, but that beauty was grievously marred by weeks of illness, malnutrition and inadequate hygiene. Somehow, her emaciated body still retained enough moisture for her eyes to well up with fresh tears. The raw skin around her eyes testified that these were not the first. "You... you've come to rescue me?" She croaked weakly, her voice all but nonexistent.

"Yes, we have," Argus took her frail hand in his. "I'm Argus. We're the Warriors of Light. You're safe now. It's all over."

The girl managed a smile and laughed with a mixture of joy and disbelief. "I don't know how I could ever repay you. I am Sarah, Princess of Cornelia."

"We surmised as much," Duane removed his hat, kneeling down alongside Argus. "It is good to see you again, Your Highness, even under these most dire circumstances."

"...Duane?" Sarah was stunned, "Duane, you're alive! You had us all so terribly worried! You are one of the Four? I don't believe it!"

"Ah, no. Well, not exactly... Milady." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, rare color forming on his face.

"There are actually six of us, Your Excellency," Sarina explained. "You have already met Argus Baron, warrior and bearer of the Earth Crystal. I am Sarina Alexandra, Priestess of Light and bearer of the Water Crystal." She gestured toward two more of her comrades. "Gilles Arkham, black mage and bearer of the Wind Crystal and Kelga Vasquez... um, 'adventurer' and bearer of the Fire Crystal."

"It's okay. Thief. You can say it," Kelga grinned. "It's nice to finally meet you, Princess. Duane and Maduin may not have Crystals of their own, but they're helping us out just the same. In fact, we probably couldn't have done it without them."

"Maduin..." Sarah seemed to mull the name over.

"Maduin Vargas," the monk nodded amicably. "My-"

"Reputation proceeds you," Sarah was agape.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Er, no... not if you are in my father's employ, anyway," she chuckled. "As seems to be the case."

"Oh yeah, Argus!" Kelga called. "I still have this. It' better than the one you've been using, but too heavy for my tastes. You should take it." He handed Garland's ornate, steel longsword to the fighter, who promptly dropped his old sword in exchange for the vastly superior weapon.

"Oh, Awesome!" Argus exclaimed, testing the near-perfect balance of the mastercraft longblade in his hands.

"That sword..." Sarah's voice grew quiet. "Where did you get it?"

"Right out of Garland's right hand!" Kelga sometimes had trouble containing his pride. This was one of those times.

"And Garland is..."

"Dead." Gilles grunted, speaking up for the first time.

"Very dead," Maduin elucidated. "Or he should be, anyway. I don't know how anyone could have survived everything we put that poor bastard through."

"He's a pile of human bacon coated in molten slag at the bottom of this really deep shaft!" Kelga cackled with glee, pointing to the floor below him. "You should have heard the noise he made when he hit the bottom, Princess!" He shuddered involuntarily just thinking about it.

"I... I see..." Sarah hung her head.

"Is something wrong, Your Highness?" Duane asked.

"N-no. That's the first time anyone's ever defeated Garland." She sat in silence for another moment. "You must allow me to show my gratitude. Please, accompany me to Castle Cornelia!"

"That's easier said than done," Maduin said. "My apologies, but you're in really terrible shape, Princess. We may need to stay here a few more days so that you can recover. It's a pretty rough track back to the capital."

Sarah shook her head. "That won't be necessary, sir. With Garland dead, his wards that contained my powers and bound me here have also fallen. My magics can take us as far as the Temple of Light in nearly an instant."

"Teleportation?" Sarina stammered, visibly humbled. "That's very impressive, Your Majesty. Such spells are as yet beyond even my abilities."

"It is one of the few spells I do know, Milady." Sarah reassured her with all genuine modesty. "Shall we be off then, my valiant champions?"

"Wait," Gilles interjected. "Are you in any condition to use such a difficult spell?"

"I will be fine, sir. Do not worry." Sarah struggled to her feet on weak and wobbly knees, braced against Argus' sturdy, mail-clad frame for support. "Are you all prepared?"

The six adventurers all mumbled their agreement and Sarah began casting. In a few moments' time, the entire party was enveloped in a brilliant, white light and then promptly vanished into nothingness.

"Your Holiness! Your Holiness!" Healer Etoh barged into the office of Cardinal Vias, streaked with sweat and gasping for breath. "Your Holiness!"

"What is the meaning of this!?" The pontiff demanded, scrambling to fully conceal the choir girl beneath his desk. "Why must I suffer such indignity!?"

"A thousand apologies, Your Holiness!" Etoh wheezed. "I have come from the palace, courier pigeons bring news from the front! The undead hordes have all become as dust in the midst of battle! The goblin armies are retreating on all fronts!"

"Impossible..." Vias couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Any word as to why?"

Etoh shook his head, sending droplets of sweat in all directions. "The development came completely without warning, Your Holiness! Entirely unexpected! The Leinhoffen front was on the verge of collapse!"

"It must be them," the cardinal mused. "It must have been Miss Alexandra and her motley band of heretics and traitors. To think they've actually gone and accomplished their mission...!"

"But sir, are they not the Warriors of Light?"

"Apparently they are, Etoh. Apparently they are."

Suddenly, a whirl of commotion sounded from outside the office doors. Templars clacked down the marble corridor in their steel boots, some could be heard shouting for healers. Etoh stepped outside to see what all the fuss was about. "What's going on?" He demanded of the nearest temple knight.

The templar beckoned for him to follow. "Word 'as it the princess and her entourage 'ave just arrived in the Goddess Shrine. It's said she's in grave condition. Please follow me, sir!"

Etoh looked back at Vias, still fidgeting uncomfortably at his desk. "Go on and tend to them, Etoh. I'll be right behind you!"


End file.
